Thief Of Hearts
by hbarker
Summary: Rose is 'Le Chat' - world-renowned jewel thief with a secret. Her mission: Get the job done. Dimitri is the Interpol agent assigned to catch her. His mission: Declaw the feline. Follow this game of Cat and Mouse to find out how it all ends. Will Dimitri catch the elusive, but seductive cat, or will Rose finally use up the last of her nine lives? AH/SLIGHTLY OOC. 'M' RATING NOW
1. Chapter 1: Le Chat

**Well, here it is, finally! Welcome back to any that followed me through the journey of writing "Sunsets & Roses." I hope you enjoy this story as much. It's a much different story.**

 **Translation: Sonsuzluk - Eternity; Le Chat - The Cat**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot. Richelle Mead owns the characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Le Chat**

The reservation clerk's head was lowered over the desk, staring intently at the computer screen. He was so focused, it wasn't until he heard the 'click-clack' of fingernails drumming on the counter that he raised his head.

She chuckled internally as she saw the expected, but still humorous, reaction. The young man's eyes widened exponentially as he raked them up and down her body. Resting back on her face, he squeaked out, "May I help you?"

She nearly laughed as his face turned a bright pink against his pale, freckled skin. The shock of red hair framed the deep blush perfectly. Gently pushing a long lock of bleached blonde hair off her shoulder with her well-manicured hand, the woman smiled. It was the one she used to get most men to bend to her will. Reaching up, she slid the large framed sunglasses down her nose. Looking at his name tag, she then pushed them back into place. "Charles, is it?" she said, her southern drawl flowing out like honey.

Coughing, he smiled shyly in return. "Yes, ma'am. Welcome to The Oriental. How might I assist you today?" he said, his accent clearly practiced. If she had to hazard a guess, she would say he was originally from the Southeast part of England, based on the Estuary accent he barely contained.

"I'm checking in, sugar. The name's Savannah Ethridge," she replied, extending her slightly draped hand, fingers covered in various rings and gems.

Charles' eyes jumped between her face and the protracted hand, uncertainty washing over his features. With a small curl at his lips, he reached out and gently grasped her hand, shaking it slightly. Just as quickly, he dropped it, as if the contact burned his fair skin. Clearing his throat, he responded, "Yes, ma'am. Let me just check. Do you have your passport with you?"

Savannah slid her jeweled hand into her bag, swiftly pulling out the requested document. Sliding it across the counter, she replied, "Sure do, honey." She watched as the clerk's fingers flew across the keyboard.

"Ah, here it is," he said, before raising his head. Smiling broadly, he continued, "It says you will be staying for just one night. Is that correct?"

Again, she had to curtail a chuckle as she saw his slightly forlorn expression. "I'm afraid so, sugar," she responded. Resting her elbow on the counter, she leaned in closer, giving him an eyeful of her exposed cleavage. She pulled her glasses down once again. Her bright blue eyes caught his as she continued, her voice low, "But, had I known I would meet such a handsome man as yourself, I would have definitely extended my stay." She winked before slipping the shades back up. The edge of her lips curled slightly as she took in the blush once again spreading across his cheeks.

Taking her passport, he double checked the information, scanned it quickly and slid it back across the desk. She dropped it back into her purse and waited patiently for the man to finish. After a brief moment, he pulled a sheet from the nearby printer and placed it in front of her. Handing her a pen, he said, "If you will please make sure everything is correct and sign at the bottom, Ms. Ethridge."

She moved her hand over his, lightly touching his skin as she removed the writing instrument from his fingers. "Thanks, honey." She quickly scrawled a nearly illegible signature across the sheet before pushing the paper toward the befuddled man.

Collecting it off the desk, he pulled the requisite hotel keycard from a pile before programming it. "Here is your key," he said, handing it to her. "You're in the Royal Suite, which is on the second floor. Do you need anyone to help you with your bags?"

"Oh, no, sugar. I've only got this here small carry-on, but aren't you sweet to offer." Turning to walk toward the elevator, she stopped after a few steps and turned around. "Thank you for all your help, Charles," she said before blowing him a small kiss. She turned and continued to the elevator, as the bellman pressed the button.

The suite was stunning. The décor was light creams and gray with beautiful hardwood floors. The floor to ceiling windows overlooked Hyde Park's lush greenery. Savannah's six-inch heels clicked across the wooden floor as she made her way toward the master bedroom and into the large, walk-in closet. As she studied the safe mounted into the closet wall, she smiled. This time, it was a smile that made most men cower in fear.

* * *

The street in front of the hotel was quiet, the nearby businesses and shops long closed. Only the casino down the road remained open. However, with the late hour, there would be few patrons wandering down the deserted sidewalks. The streetlamps cast eerie shadows alongside the stone walls and concrete roads.

Lurking in the shadows, the woman pulled the black ski mask over her head, securing it into place. Intense, brown eyes, hidden behind it, methodically scanned the area from the darkened alleyway. Clad in black, she climbed the metal drain pipe that ran along the side of the building. Reaching the nearby fire escape, she hauled herself up and over before tiptoeing to the end. Climbing over the side, she lowered herself slowly. Hanging from the cold steel, she swung out a few times before releasing and dropping silently onto the stone patio below. Landing softly, she rolled smoothly before rising into a low crouch. Eyes still surveying the area, she quickly and quietly inched toward a set of patio doors. Hugging the wall, she peered inside, past the sheer curtains. The interior was shuttered in darkness. Slipping a tool from the belt around the waist, the woman slid it surreptitiously between the double doors. With a quick but controlled twist, she heard the tell-tale 'click' as the latch released. Sliding the tool back into place, her gloved hand reached out and carefully lowered the door handle, listening intently for any sound from inside. Pushing it open, just enough to slip through, she slid into the room, hugging the cold glass.

Pushing the door nearly closed, she scanned the room. The large, king-sized bed sat against the far wall, the sides turned down earlier by the maid service. Walking toward the large closet, the intruder gently slid the expensive silk suit jackets apart. Reaching into the kit once again, she pulled out a tubular lock pick. Knowing in advance the safes the hotel used in the past, but had yet to replace, the tool was already set correctly. Inserting the pick into the lock, she gently applied pressure while twisting it back and forth. In a matter of seconds, the heavy metal door popped open. Withdrawing the tool and placing it back in the kit, the prowler reached inside, pulling out a large, dark blue velvet box. Pulling out a small flashlight and turning it on, the small halo of light illuminated the glittering array of jewels. Smiling beneath the mask, the burglar removed the item from the tray before slipping it, now empty back into the safe. She tucked the necklace into a pouch, hidden inside the dark pants.

Locking the safe, the thief slid the clothes back into place before stepping back out into the bedroom. Opening the patio door, she slipped outside and crawled over to the edge once again. Surveying the alleyway below, the woman swung her legs over the side of the small wall and pushed off. Crouching as she landed, the lone figure crept down the alley until reaching the end. Looking around cautiously once more, she pulled on the black helmet that was resting on the seat, started the engine and sped off into the night.

* * *

It was nearly forty minutes later when the motorcycle and its passenger pulled up to the rundown warehouse outside the small town of Ilford. Dismounting, the rider unlocked the large metal door, sliding it open enough to push the bike inside. Once through the door, she set the stand, turned, and pulled the door closed, securing it once again. Walking up a set of dirty metal stairs, the burglar slid open another heavy door. Pushing it closed and locking it, the woman reached over and flipped a switch on the wall. A single exposed bulb flickered to life in the center of the moderately sized room. What windows there were had been painted black, blocking out all light from either escaping or entering.

Walking to a table in the center of the room, the thief pulled off her gloves before reaching up and tugging off the helmet. With one hand, she lifted off the mask. Long, dark chestnut-colored hair cascaded down her back. Catching a glance in the floor mirror, the young woman surveyed her reflection. Smiling, she ran her hands through her hair, finger-combing out the tangles. Turning back to the table, she reached into the trousers, pulling out the secured bundle. Unfolding the cloth that housed the treasure, she pulled the necklace free. Holding it up, she studied it, watching as the jewels caught the light from the dim bulb. She smiled, realizing the famous Sonsuzluk emerald and diamond necklace would bring a nice payday. Mounted in platinum, it was set with a graduated series of sixteen rectangular-cut and square-cut emeralds, each within a circular-cut diamond surround. Those were spaced by graduated circular-cut, marquise-cut, and pear-shaped diamond quatrefoils. There was a buyer already lined up.

Picking up her phone, she sauntered over to the refrigerator and pulled it open. Grabbing a beer, she popped the cap off before taking a long pull from the cold beverage. Flipping through her contacts, she hit the button and held the phone to her ear. It only rang twice before the familiar voice answered, "Hey, Little Cat."

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "What have I said about calling me that, Adrian?"

Chuckling but ignoring her rhetorical question, he said, "So, I assume you scored tonight?"

Taking a quick swig from the bottle, she replied, "Yup. It's so beautiful, I'm tempted to keep it for myself."

"Tsk, tsk," he responded. "I don't think Abe would look too kindly on that, even if you are his favorite."

Abe Mazur was the head of the syndicate for which she freelanced. He had discovered her real identity years earlier and had used that information to blackmail her into working for him. While it had pissed her off initially, she had found that working for Abe brought quite a few rewards. With his wealth and reputation, she was able to take any job she wanted. She also had unlimited access to resources that helped her stay undetected and out of prison. Sighing, she answered, "I'm not his favorite. I'm just the best, and he appreciates real talent."

Adrian laughed. "There's my girl. Not an ounce of humility in that beautiful body."

Snorting, she replied, "It's not bragging if it's the truth." Pausing to take another drink, she continued, "So, when and where is the drop?"

"Not sure yet. The buyer is pretty skittish. They keep changing the plans. Abe's trying to nail them down. I'll let you know as soon as he lets me know."

Taking one last swig, she tossed the empty bottle into the trash before walking back to the table. Picking up the necklace, she studied it once again. It indeed was a thing of beauty, but she knew that it was only a means to an end. "Okay, let me know. Does the old man have a new target for me?"

Snickering, Adrian replied, "Always need to be on the job, huh?"

Running a hand through her hair, she replied wearily, "Guess so. Wouldn't know what to do with myself otherwise."

"Just don't get burned out. One mistake and that's it; game over."

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled. "So? The next job?"

"Fine. He's got a buyer interested in the Royal Star of Paris. I've sent over the details. Once you deliver the necklace to the sheik, you'll head to Paris. The brooch will be on display in two weeks. That should give you enough time."

She closed her eyes and furrowed her brow. "Please, tell me it's not..." she said, the last word dying on her lips.

"Yup. The brooch will be at the Louvre."

Her fist clenched. She wasn't entirely sure if her desire to beat the shit out of something was due to the location of the jewel, or at the amusement she heard in Adrian's voice. "Son of a bitch," she mumbled.

"Don't tell me Le Chat is afraid of a widdle biddy world-famous museum, with probably the most state of the art security?" Adrian said, smugness tinting his tone.

"Fuck you, Adrian," she retorted.

Laughing outright, he responded, "Hey, I'm only kidding. You know there's no security system in the world you can't crack. It'll be fine, you'll see. Besides, Mia's already pulling together all the intel on their systems. You'll go and do your regular surveillance and then, badabing badaboom, that fancy pin is as good as yours."

She smirked. Adrian always knew how to bring her out of her funks. "Fine. Once I get this damn necklace off my hands, I'll head to Paris and start scouting." She'd have to lay the Southern belle, Savannah, to rest and pull out one of her other aliases.

"That a girl!"

"Goodnight, Adrian," she growled before hanging up.

"Goodnight, Lilly," he replied.

* * *

The blaring ringtone from her phone startled Rose from her deep slumber. With her eyes still closed, she fumbled around the bedside table, searching for the offending device. Swiping at the screen, she mumbled into the receiver, "What?"

"Morning, sunshine," Adrian chirped.

Groaning, Rose replied, "This better be good."

Chuckling, he answered, "It is. We have a meet scheduled."

Opening her eyes, Rose slowly sat up before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Pushing her hair off her face, she said, "When and where?"

"Much better. And people say you're not a morning person," he teased.

"I'm not, and get to the fucking point."

"Fine, fine, no need to get testy. The buyer is sending his representative. They'll meet you at the London Eye. You'll have a ticket waiting. Board at the Fast Track entrance. Be there a little before ten o'clock."

Rose looked over at her clock. It was only seven. That would give her time to eat something, go for a run and get showered and changed before driving the forty minutes back into town. "Fine. Do we know anything about this person?"

"Only that he goes by the initial S."

Rose scoffed. "Seriously? Sounds like a douche to me."

Adrian laughed. "My thoughts exactly."

"How's the payment being handled? Am I picking up currency, or are they doing a wire-transfer?"

"Payment will be made electronically once they have the necklace. You'll call me from the gondola, and Mr. S will initiate the transfer."

"And if things don't go…according to plan?" she asked. While most of the time the clients were happy to pay for services rendered, there had been rare instances where persuasion had been required.

"Abe says to do whatever is necessary to ensure things go as expected." Squeezing her eyes shut, Rose nodded, mainly to herself. That meant she would have to pack her Sig 1911 Tribal Ultra Compact, as well as her Gerber StrongArm Fixed Blade Knife.

"Fine, I'll call you when we're ready." Hanging up, she stood and walked to the kitchenette. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she pulled out her Ninja and whipped up a quick protein smoothie. Drinking it as she changed into her running gear, she placed the glass into the small sink before picking up her music player.

Exiting out of the warehouse, she looked around for signs of vagrants or police. Seeing no one, she started with a slow lope, letting her muscles warm up. Eventually, she stepped up the pace, running briskly through the crisp autumn air. As the music thumped through the headset, she moved through the small, narrow streets. After about thirty minutes, she started to slow, as she came across a small park. There were only a handful of people milling about, as it was still early. Finding a secluded spot, Rose began to stretch out her muscles, breathing in the slightly chilled air.

"Excuse me?" a male voice said. Looking up, Rose was facing a young man, close to her age. His hair was bright red, contrasting against his blue eyes. He was smiling as he held out a map. "I seem to be lost. Could you tell me how to get to London?"

Rose smirked. "Sure," she said, standing close to the man, as they both studied the map. As her finger ran along the page, she whispered, "What the fuck are you doing here, Mason?"

He looked at her, nodding as if listening to her supply directions. "She wanted an update."

She shook her head, before pointing once again at the map and then at the nearby street. "Are you trying to blow my cover?" she asked, her voice coated in ire.

"No," he said, calmly, a smile still on his face. "I only do what I'm ordered. Associate Deputy Director Ozera wants a report – like today."

Huffing slightly, she responded, "Tell Tasha I'll have something for her soon. I'm meeting with one of the buyer's men this morning. I was able to insert the listening and tracking device into the necklace. Not sure if they'll spot it, but if not, it should give the agency what they're looking for."

Nodding, Mason smiled before folding up the map and shaking her hand. "Thank you, very much. I hope I didn't inconvenience you," he said, laughter playing in his eyes.

"No problem. I hope you enjoy your visit," she said, politely before walking off.

As she jogged back to the warehouse, she couldn't help but fume. She liked the director and even considered Tasha a friend. However, it had been a dangerous call to have Mason show up like that. Had anyone been watching her, especially one of Abe's men, not only would her assignment end, but most likely her life as well. Her cover was Lilly Martin, otherwise known to only a select few as Le Chat. In real life, she was Rose Hathaway, Field Agent with the CIA's Operations Division. She had been assigned to infiltrate Ibrahim Mazur's organization. One might wonder what a CIA agent would be doing undercover as a jewel thief. Only Director Ozera and her partner, Agent Mason Ashford knew the real mission. Rose was to use her position in Mazur's syndicate to tag bank accounts and gather evidence on suspected terrorists like this particular individual. The CIA knew the identity of the buyer, but they needed concrete proof of their involvement with terrorism.

Operations like these weren't short term. Rose had been honing her skills and building her reputation for years. Her one goal was bringing down one of the world's most wanted men. Unfortunately, they had no idea who he was. Those who fought and died for the leader of The Revolution Front were highly dedicated, and not even the most brutal interrogation techniques could break them. Members of the Front were radical, fanatically loyal and immune to all forms of bribery or coercion. For the operation to have any chance at success, Rose's cover had to be impervious to scrutiny.

She had become so entrenched in her new life, sometimes she wondered how she'd ever go back. Her mother, Janine Hathaway, had been one of the CIA's top agents. While Rose held little familial attachment to her mother, she had always had her respect. When her mother had died, the victim of a car bomb many years ago, Rose had vowed, not only honor her mother by becoming the best agent she could but to find her mother's killer. All her investigation and research had led her to this point. After years of pulling at the threads of The Front, she was getting one step closer to victory.

Slipping into the warehouse, she dropped the player and headset on the table before grabbing a bottle of water. Strolling over to the desk, she flipped open a thick folder. Inside was every piece of information gathered over the years on The Front's elusive leader. She had spent years memorizing every note and photo. They haunted her dreams and tortured her waking hours. In this game of cat and mouse, she always felt as if she took two steps back for every one step forward. Shaking her head, she slammed it shut. She knew that if she didn't catch a break soon, the Director would have no choice but to pull her. Rose shivered at the thought of being reassigned.

Rolling her shoulders, she stripped out of her clothes and took a quick shower. Once finished and dry, she pulled her long hair up into a high ponytail and wrapped it into a tight bun. Removing the short copper-colored wig off the mannequin, she placed it over her hair, pinning it into place. Putting on the jade green contact lenses, she applied her makeup and positioned a small, fake beauty mark just above her left eyebrow. Once satisfied with the look, she slid on a pair of skinny jeans and a fitted tank top. She opted for her black buckled-back combat boots. They would allow her to hide the knife in the ankle holster. Grabbing her black leather jacket, she picked up the necklace, wrapped it back in the cloth and slid it into the inside pocket. Pulling her Sig from the desk, she checked the magazine before pulling the slide. She then slipped the gun into the waistband of her jeans at her lower back. Sliding the jacket back over it, she grabbed the knife, pulled up her pant leg and placed it in the holster.

A few minutes later she was flying down the highway, headed toward London. It would take her about an hour to get to the meeting spot. That would leave her an hour to do surveillance and figure out escape routes if things went south. Rose's motto was "Hope for the best, but plan for the worst." In her line of work, it almost always ended up being the latter.

Almost exactly thirty minutes later, Rose pulled into a parking spot for motorcycles near the Tower Hill tube station. Buying a ticket at the automated kiosk, she walked to the turnstile and inserted it before walking through. Rose boarded the train on the District line and headed toward the Embankment station. Ten minutes later, she stepped out and made her way along the platform and up the escalator. Taking another long hallway, Rose stepped out onto the Northern line platform and waited for the train. It arrived a few moments later, and she boarded quickly, placing herself near the door with her back to the wall.

A short three minutes later she exited the train and made her way up the escalator. Leaving the station, she quickly crossed the street, heading down Chicheley Street. Crossing Belvedere Road, she walked toward the massive, metal structure that sat on the bank of the Thames. With her large sunglasses in place, she sat on a nearby bench, pretending to read her copy of Fodor's London. She covertly surveyed the area, registering law enforcement presence, security measures, as well as entrance and egress points. As it was still relatively early, there were only a few tourists milling around. Standing, she made her way to the concession stand, purchasing a coffee. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone, placing it to her ear. Sipping her coffee, she pretended to carry on an engaging conversation while continuing to watch people as they came and went.

Ending the fake call, she put her phone away and looked down at her watch. It was a few minutes to ten. She stood and walked toward the ticket station. At ten o'clock sharp, a young woman waved her forward.

"How may I help you?" she asked in her clipped accent.

"Ticket for Chelsea Cook," she replied in her perfect cockney accent.

"May I see your identification, please?"

Rose reached into her back pocket and pulled out the forged card, sliding it under the glass. No matter how many times she used fake identification, she always felt a sense of unease. She knew it was nearly impossible that anyone would discover the fraud, but she also knew that nothing was ever guaranteed.

"Enjoy the ride, Ms. Cook," she said, smiling, sliding the ticket and identification back under the glass.

"Thanks," Rose replied.

Sliding the license into her back pocket, her fingers surreptitiously brushed the Sig. That brief contact brought calm back to her nerves, as she turned and walked toward the assigned entrance. Handing her ticket to the young man at the walkway, she slid past him, ignoring his blatant, heated stare. She stepped through the open doors and stood to face them, her back against the glass walls.

A minute later, three men stepped inside, filling up the entrance. Two massive men flanked a smaller, but still well-muscled man. He had spiked blonde hair and green eyes. Rose would guess he was in his late twenties. His posture was relaxed, as he stood, feet apart, his hands clasped in front. As the doors closed and the gondola began to move, he stepped forward until he was standing next to her. Looking out the window, he said, "Spectacular view." His Belfast accent was evidently authentic.

Rose inclined her head toward him, nodding slightly. "Ready to make the trade?" she asked, her own accent still firmly in place.

Turning entirely to face her, he replied, "What's the hurry, luv?"

It took everything in her to not thrust her forearm into his larynx. His presence was a combination of confidence and arrogance. While many might consider him handsome, she found him repulsive. Underneath the swagger and charm, she saw the snake beneath. She suddenly found herself more concerned with him than the two hulking giants standing guard by the exit. Maintaining her own disguise, she shrugged and retorted, "Just have places to be."

Stepping even closer, his chest now rubbing against her arm, he leaned down to whisper into her ear, "Awe, I'm sure we could persuade such a lovely lass as yourself to stay awhile." Sliding his hand from her waist slowly up her shirt, he barely noticed her left hand move to his crotch. "What do you say? The boys and I could give you a real ride." As his fingers reached the bottom of her breast, she squeezed her hand tightly, holding him in place.

Turning her face, so they were cheek to cheek, she whispered, "Bugger off. Touch me again, and I'll make sure you never ride again." With one last squeeze, she released him, wiping her hand on her jeans. Turning, she ground out, "I believe we have business to conduct."

He stared at her for a second, his green eyes now hardened and black. Inhaling deeply, he replied, "Show me the item."

Glancing toward the two men at the door, she slowly slid her hand into her jacket, her other hand raised. She pulled it out slowly. Lowering her other hand she pulled back the cloth, letting the sparkling emeralds and diamonds glint in the morning sun. Looking back at the hired gun, she saw a small smirk. He reached out and picked the necklace up, scanning it closely. After inspecting it thoroughly, he laid it back into her open palm. "Now for the payment," she said, folding the cloth over. Pulling her phone out, she dialed Adrian's number.

"Ready," he said as he answered.

Handing the phone over to Mr. S., she watched as he took it, placing it to his ear. "CNB. Routing number 025762372. Account number 740228119065. You have thirty minutes before the account is closed," he said before promptly hanging up.

"Once he sends confirmation of the transfer, you'll get the necklace," Rose said.

Mr. S. smirked again. "You realize we could just take it from you now?" he said, inching closer again.

Eyes narrowed, she glared at the man. "Itching for a repeat, are you?" She saw his eyes widen slightly before he stepped back. "Besides, I think your employer has enjoyed a rather fruitful arrangement with mine. Doubt he'd appreciate you throwing a spanner in the works, eh?" Before he could reply, her phone beeped. She could see the gondola was nearly back at the bottom. She felt herself relax slightly as she saw the confirmation from Adrian. Pocketing the phone she handed the necklace over, dropping it unceremoniously into his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."

She turned and walked toward the doors. She tensed again as she saw the two large men holding their position, blocking her exit. Turning her head, she glanced back at the other man. "Mind asking these two wankers to step aside?" she asked before turning to look back at the human barricades. She saw their eyes flick behind her. A second later they both stepped aside, allowing her to pass.

As she crossed the threshold, she heard Mr. S. call out, "Be seeing you soon, lass."

Rose tried to control the shiver of revulsion that coursed through her body. She knew his comment was meant as a threat and that their next meeting wouldn't be as civil. Mercenaries, or mercs, were the worst to deal with. They had no conscious and worked only for themselves. They could be highly unpredictable.

She walked away, maintaining both an air of confidence and innocence. Walking along the streets, she peered into various shop windows, stopping in a few to look at merchandise she had no interest in purchasing. She was doing what she always did; ensuring she wasn't being tailed. After a half hour, she finally felt confident she wasn't being followed and headed to the tube station. Boarding the train, she made her way back to Tower Hill. Exiting the station, she quickly mounted the bike after sliding on her helmet. Starting the engine, she pulled out and sped down the narrow streets until she reached the highway.

Arriving back at the warehouse, she secured the bike before heading upstairs. She washed her face after removing the wig and contacts. Sliding the knife from the holster, she placed it, along with the Sig into the desk drawer. Just as she pulled a beer from the fridge, her phone rang.

"Nice job, Little Cat," the familiar voice greeted.

Sighing heavily, Rose disregarded the nickname, instead responding, "How much?"

Laughing, Adrian replied, "Always to the point. Your cut was one point two million U.S. dollars. I deposited into your account."

Rose flipped open her laptop, pulling up her bank website. Logging in quickly, she confirmed the payment before responding, "Got it." Stretching and rolling her neck, she continued, "Do I have a base set up?"

She heard Adrian snort. "What do you think? We're not a fly-by-night operation here. Abe has decided that having you close to the museum would be better. You're booked into the Four Seasons Hotel George V."

Rose had to keep from gasping. She knew of its reputation for elegance and luxury. While she wasn't about to tell Abe she wasn't interested, she was slightly concerned. "That seems risky to me," she said.

"You know the drill, Lilly. If anytime you need to alter the plan or arrangements, just give me a call."

Sighing again, Rose responded, "Fine. I'll check it out. How am I getting there?"

"Abe's sending his plane. You'll fly out this evening from Luton into Aéroport de Paris - Le Bourget. Cleaners will be at your place in Ilford tonight after you leave. Want your bike shipped to Paris?"

"No," she said. "Just have them store it someplace in London."

"Will do. So, who will you become this time?" he asked, sounding excited.

"Make the reservation at the hotel for Catharine Hirsiz," she said, smirking.

Adrian chuckled. "You do realize Abe is going to have a fit when he finds out what name you're using. He told you to never use it."

Rose scoffed. "Do you honestly believe anyone in law enforcement is going to have a clue?"

"It's your funeral when the old man finds out."

"Whatever. Listen, Adrian, I've got to run. I've got to pack and get ready to head out. What time should I be at Luton?"

"The plane should arrive around six tonight," he replied.

"All right. I'll talk to you later." Rose waited a moment, expecting a snarky or inappropriate comment in response. Finally, she said, "Adrian?"

She heard him sigh on the other end. "It's probably nothing, but I'm getting a bad feeling in my gut about this one. Just watch your back, okay?" he said, his voice thick with concern.

Rose couldn't help but inhale sharply. Adrian's instincts were nearly as good as hers. The only fault in his was not catching on to her true identity and mission. She couldn't fault him for that. It was what she had trained for since she graduated high school. She could become anyone at any time. As quickly as she could shed one identity, she could promptly assume another, leaving no trace behind. Knowing he had concerns about this next job meant she should give them serious credence. "I will, Adrian. Thanks," she said, making sure he heard the sincerity in her voice.

Hanging up, she looked at the clock. It was only noon. It wouldn't take her long to pack. She could change on the plane, quickly assuming her new identity. She packed her bags and spruced up the room before sitting down and reviewing the dossier she had compiled on Catharine, as well as the information from Mia on the job itself. It would be her most challenging to date.

* * *

 **I'll give a guest spot in this story to the first person who posts in the reviews the significance of Rose's newest alias, Catharine Hirsiz. _UPDATE:_ We have a winner! Congratulations to PrincessKooki who guessed correctly - Catharine Hirsiz = Cat Burglar (Hirsiz is Turkish for burglar).**


	2. Chapter 2: Setting the Trap

**Congratulations again, to PrincessKooki for being the winner of my contest. She's earned herself a place in immortality as "Keren Prinz, Interpol Agent."**

 **On a side note. After some more research, I've come to realize that Interpol works differently than how Hollywood and I assumed. How I'm depicting in my story is not the reality. For those familiar with Interpol, I hope you'll just let the specifics go and enjoy the story for what it is. I'd change it, as we're early in, but I have no CLUE what other agency he could work for that would have a global reach.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns all VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Setting the Trap**

"Belikov!" the man's voice hollered from his office.

His head shot up at the enraged voice. Standing up quickly, Dimitri made his way down the hall and into his boss's office. Hans Croft was the Assistant Director with Interpol. His office oversaw criminal investigations. Dimitri Belikov was a Criminal Intelligence Officer. He had only been with the agency for a few years, having been recruited from the FBI.

As Dimitri walked up, he saw the older man leaning on his desk, his head resting in his hands. Sighing heavily, he looked up at Dimitri, before nodding toward the nearby chair. Sitting down, Dimitri crossed his ankle over his knee and waited patiently for the man to speak.

"They struck again," he said, weariness evident in his voice.

Dimitri's eyes widened. Le Chat, the infamous jewel thief. "Where, sir?"

"London," he responded. "Stole the Sonsuzluk emerald and diamond necklace right out of the duchess's room." He chuckled, and Dimitri squinted at the sound, unsure why that would be cause for amusement. Looking at Dimitri, he clarified, "The fool locked it in the room safe. Can you believe that shit?" Nodding and smiling in understanding, Dimitri waited patiently for the man to continue. "Anyway, word has it that there's a buyer all lined up. I've got a team working on intercepting, but I don't hold out a lot of hope for success."

"You think we should get ahead of them; catch them at their next heist." It was a statement.

Hans smirked, pointing at him. "That, right there, Belikov, is the reason I stole you from the FBI. That's exactly what I was thinking. Our intelligence has come up with a couple of possibilities for their next target. The Heart of Sheba, a one hundred ten carat yellow diamond ring, is touring the United States right now. The Incomparable Diamond Necklace is scheduled to be on display in Bahrain at the Jewelry Arabia next month. The third possible target is the Royal Star of Paris, a brooch with over two hundred seventy-one carats of diamonds. It'll be on display at the Louvre next week."

Dimitri snorted internally. Any one of those could be enough to lure Le Chat. The problem would be narrowing it down to one. If he was going to be leading one of the teams, he wanted to make damn sure he was on the winning one. "What's your gut telling you, Assistant Director?"

Hans was studying the papers in front of him while silence filled the room. Lifting his head once again, he said to Dimitri, "I'm taking the Heart of Sheba out of play. I can't imagine them traipsing around the U.S. That leaves Bahrain and Paris."

Dimitri turned his head, looking out the large window. The skies were overcast, the bleakness matching his mood. He had been trying for years to catch Le Chat. He had come close a few times, but they had always managed to be one step ahead. Dimitri knew that if he could capture the elusive thief, he'd be on the fast track within the agency. He looked back at Hans. "Paris," he said, resolutely.

Raising an eyebrow, Hans responded, "You sound certain."

Leaning forward, Dimitri explained, "I am. It follows the pattern. Le Chat likes to stay busy. They go from one job to the next. The show in Bahrain isn't for another month. That's too far away."

Hans studied him before a small smile played at his lips. "I think I need to watch my back, Agent Belikov." Growing serious again, he barked, "Get to it. I want your team assembled and ready by the end of the day. All the resources of this office will be at your disposal." With that, Hans flipped the folder on his desk closed and turned to his computer, his fingers gliding across the keyboard.

Dimitri, having worked closely with Hans for a few years, knew that was the signal that the meeting was over. Rising from his chair, he strode over to the door. As he was about to close it behind him, he heard the director call out, "Make sure you catch this asshole."

Smiling, Dimitri walked back down to his office. Closing the door, he moved behind his desk and sat down. Pulling his computer out of hibernation, Dimitri opened up his email, downloading the relevant information Hans had sent. After perusing the files, he turned and picked up his phone. Punching a button, he waited as it rang.

"Zeklos," the man's voice answered.

"Ivan, it's Dimitri."

"Hey, man. What's up?"

"I've got an assignment, and I need you on the team. You up for helping me declaw a rather annoying cat?"

He was met by brief silence, before Ivan whispered, "No shit? You're going after Le Chat?"

"Well, it is my job. You know: identify, find, and arrest the bad guy?"

Snorting, Ivan replied, "No shit, Sherlock. I just thought you might have given up after last time."

Dimitri's jaw clenched at the memories from his last run-in with the thief. Nearly a year earlier, he had almost caught Le Chat. The agency had set up a decoy; a perfect replica of the Dresden Green. His plan had been perfect. They had installed redundant security measures and had cameras monitoring every entry and egress point. Hell, even Dimitri had gone in, posing as a guard. The museum hadn't been closed fifteen minutes before they discovered it. The fake stone was still resting on its soft bed. However, underneath was a note that read, "Nice try." It had taken Dimitri months to live it down. Now, he wanted to catch this perp more than ever. It wasn't just the possible promotion that motivated him; it was his wounded pride.

"Not fucking likely," he growled. "So, you in?

"Do I really have a choice?"

Dimitri chuckled. "Nope, not really."

Sighing, Ivan replied, "Fine. Once you get the details, let me know, and I'll stop by your office for the debrief. Who else are you picking?"

"Castile, definitely. I'll check and see if Petrov is back from leave. Was thinking about Tanner as well."

"Sounds good, man. Mikhail is supposed to be getting back from Spain tomorrow."

"Thanks. I'll be in touch," Dimitri said before hanging up.

He spent the rest of the day reviewing the files and lining up the other team members. Eddie Castile was relatively new to the division, but he had an impressive record. His determination and dedication had impressed Dimitri. He had been eager to accept the assignment. Alberta Petrov had been recovering after being shot on her last job. She was scheduled to be released from medical leave that day. She, too, was eager to get back into the field. Her persistence and resilience were traits that Dimitri had found admirable. He knew she'd be an asset as well. Mikhail Tanner was someone he had never worked with directly, but he had heard good things from Alberta and Hans.

As he looked at the file, he frowned. After all this time, they still had no idea who they were dealing with. There was absolutely no clue as to the identity of Le Chat. They had left behind no evidence. Whoever they were working with was very good at covering their tracks. Dimitri knew that their only chance at success hinged on learning at least something about the elusive burglar.

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, the strain of reading and rereading the information taking their toll. Standing up, he slipped on his suit coat before locking up his files and shutting down his computer. It was nearly seven o'clock at night, and he had plans with a certain curvaceous brunette. He grinned slightly, thinking about how he'd be spending the next couple of hours. Rolling around with Keren would definitely help take the edge off.

* * *

Dimitri clutched Keren to him tightly, his hand massaging her firm backside as he pushed her against her front door. His mouth was passionately claiming hers as she moaned into it, urging him on. Her hands were fumbling in her bag, still hanging off her shoulder, as she searched for her keys. Growling in frustration, Dimitri pulled back slightly, grabbed her purse and pulled the offending items from inside. Sliding the key into the lock, he opened the door, stepping them both into the entryway. Kicking it closed with his foot, he pulled her close again while sliding the purse off her shoulder, letting it drop to the floor.

His lips were marking a trail down her exposed neck, her long, thick brown hair wrapped tightly around his hand. Tilting her head back even further, she mumbled, "Are you thirsty?"

He chuckled against her skin, sending shivers along it. Continuing his ministrations, he mouthed, "Maybe later."

Nodding, she cried out in surprise as he suddenly lifted her up, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. As he walked toward the bedroom, her hands were already working the buttons of his shirt. "Too many clothes, Agent Belikov."

Grinning, he slid her down just inside her room. "Oh, I heartily agree, Agent Prinz." His hands gripped her blouse, rending it in two.

Buttons flew around the room, as she gasped, "Damn it, Dimitri! That's the third blouse you've ruined this month! I don't get paid enough to keep replacing my clothes. I don't think I can write this off on my expense report, you know."

Smiling, he pulled her close again, his hand reaching around to twist the clasp of her bra, freeing her from its bindings. "You know you love it when I play rough." Trying hard to suppress a grin, her hands moved to his pants, making quick work of them. Sliding his clothing down, she let the grin form as she took in his physique. "See something you like?" he teased.

"You know," she said as she shimmied out of her skirt, leaving her in nothing but a lacy thong, "if we weren't friends and co-workers, I'd think you were an arrogant prick."

Dimitri laughed, an eyebrow raised. Grabbing her and carrying her to the bed, he tossed her back before replying, "And, if we weren't friends and co-workers, I'd think you were easy."

Scoffing, she leaned up on her elbows, raising her leg and placing a foot against his chest as he started to crawl up from the foot of the bed. "Careful there," she said, her hazel eyes narrowed, a small smirk playing at her full, red lips, "it's not good to bite the hand that feeds you."

Chuckling, Dimitri grasped her ankle before moving his hand up to massage her calf. "Trust me, Keren. You're the last woman I'd consider 'easy.' Now, why don't we save the chit-chat for later and get to what we came here for?"

A couple of hours later, Dimitri was pulling on his shoes. "So, I heard through the grapevine that you're going to try to go after Le Chat again?" she asked, reclining against the pillows.

Turning to look at her, he frowned, "It's already out there?"

She shrugged, replying, "You know how offices are? Everyone gossips. Even in clandestine agencies. We just know how to keep it in-house."

Rolling his eyes, Dimitri stood up, raking his hand through his dark, shoulder-length hair. Turning he made his way out of the bedroom. Dimitri heard Keren move around, knowing she would be joining him for the post-coital drinks. Reaching into the cabinet, he pulled down two shot glasses before grabbing a bottle of Russian Standard from the freezer. As Dimitri was pouring the drinks, he heard Keren padding out in her bare feet, a silk robe tied loosely around her five-foot, nine-inch frame. Turning, he took her in, his eyes raking along her athletic but feminine frame.

Keren Prinz had come to Interpol a few years earlier. Previously, she had been with Mossad and based in Tel Aviv. When she had first joined Interpol, they had taken an instant dislike to one another. He had found her abrasive and authoritarian. She had said he was arrogant and quick to act. Late one night, when they were all but the only ones left in the office, a heated argument over a case had gone from righteous indignation to unbridled passion. He had taken her on his desk that night, hard and rough. Afterward, they had traded war stories and shared battle scars, earning a truce between them and forging a strong friendship. Both knew they could rely on one another – in the field, and in the bedroom. Neither was looking for romance or commitment.

Sliding the glass across the counter toward her, he picked up his own, taking a sip. He felt that familiar burn, as the smooth, chilled vodka slid down his throat. He watched as Keren walked around to the fridge, pulling out a plate of cheese and meats. He smiled internally at how well she knew him. He sometimes wondered, after their escapades, why he didn't feel more for the woman. She was intelligent, strong, brave and beautiful. They would be the perfect couple, according to those around them. But, for whatever reason, his heart didn't feel the same way. Sure, he loved Keren. So much so, he'd lay down his own life for her in the field, if it came down to it. However, it wasn't the sort of love that turned a man like him into a boyfriend, or even worse, a husband.

Shuddering at the thought, he picked up a cube of cheese and popped it into his mouth. "So, do you think I'm making a mistake?" he asked.

Taking a sip from her glass, she swallowed and grimaced slightly before replying, "I think you're the perfect person for the job." Pausing, she said, "But, I also think you're carrying a grudge. I'm concerned it will cloud your judgment."

Raising an eyebrow, he responded, "You don't think I can keep my emotions in check? That I'll lose focus and screw it up?"

Sighing, she answered, "I think that you're a passionate man with a strong moral compass. I think that you'll do everything in your power to apprehend them. It's how far you'll go, exactly, that has me worried."

Frowning, he downed the rest of the drink, slamming the glass down on the countertop. "I thought you knew me better than that."

Reaching over, she placed her hand on his forearm. "Hey, this is me, remember? I was there when they played you for a fool. I saw how it screwed with your head. Hell, if it were me, I'd probably go off the reservation and make it a personal vendetta."

Dimitri chuckled, imagining precisely that scenario. Keren was passionate as well. Her career was just as important to her. Sighing, he replied, "You're right. It did fuck me up." Seeing her starting to revel in her perceived victory, he continued, "But, I'm fine now. I know I can do this." Pointing at her as she poured him another shot, he challenged, "You know I can do this."

Raising her glass, she held it out until Dimitri raised his own. Clinking them together, she said, "You're right. Here's to catching this bastard."

* * *

The next morning, Dimitri showered quickly after his run, relieved he had kept the drinking to a minimum the night before. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he slid his Sig Sauer P229 into his holster. Locking his door behind him, Dimitri jogged down the stairs of his two-bedroom flat located on the Quai Pierre Scize. Sliding into his black, Peugeot 508, he headed to the office. Pulling into the parking garage after showing his credentials, he headed up the elevator, making his way to his office. Picking up the phone, Dimitri called each of the other team members and scheduled a briefing for later that afternoon. Mikhail would be in the office in the morning after his flight landed.

Grabbing his file, he headed to the director's office, knocking soundly. "Enter," he heard the brusque reply.

Opening the door, he strode in and took a seat across from Hans. "I've scheduled a briefing with the team for this afternoon."

Still looking at his computer, Hans nodded. Never shifting his gaze, he responded, "What's your game plan?"

Dimitri sighed. He had only had a few hours' sleep. After his nightly activity with Keren, he had gone back to his place. Unable to sleep, he had spent several hours reviewing his files, trying to put together the operation. Rubbing a hand over his face, he answered, "I'm still working out all the details, but as of right now, I'd like to stake out the gala that will be held tomorrow to kick off the unveiling. I can guarantee that if Le Chat is targeting the Star, they'll be there as well. We can use the museum's security cameras to run facial recognition, although I realize we don't have any photos to compare them against. At least we'll be able to eliminate some due to their political positions, law enforcement, and such. Each of the team can do one-on-one interviews with guests as well, unofficially, of course. See if they pick up on anything."

Nodding his head, Hans kept his eyes trained on the computer. "Sounds good. You've got carte blanche for any equipment or supplies. If you need extra hands for the personal assessments, grab any of the other agents that aren't currently assigned elsewhere."

"Thank you." Dimitri stood, knowing the conversation was at an end.

Walking back to his office, he saw Keren walking down the hall toward him. Smiling, he stopped as they neared his door. Opening it, Dimitri gestured for her to enter. Closing the door, he walked behind his desk as she took a seat opposite. "What's up?"

"Fancy going to a gala at the Louvre tomorrow night? It's a masquerade, so you'll need a mask."

Smiling, she replied, "Why, Dimitri, are you asking me on a date?"

Recognizing the teasing glint in her eye, Dimitri smirked. "You're very aware of the only dates I'm interested in." Growing serious, he continued, "The team and I are going to stake out the gala to see if we can narrow down a list of suspects. I'd bet my badge Le Chat will be there. I could use an extra set of eyes and ears if you're game."

"Sure. I don't have to be in Istanbul until the day after tomorrow. What's the plan?"

Dimitri filled Keren in on the role she'd be playing that evening. Her years of Mossad training, including interrogations, would prove invaluable. She was well known for her ability to suss out when someone was lying, even without alternative methods.

Looking at the clock, Dimitri realized it was close to lunch. Looking over at Keren, he said, "I'm going to grab some lunch. Want to join me? We can continue to brainstorm about the gala."

"Sure. Let me just grab my bag, and I'll meet you in the garage."

Standing, he walked her to the door before sliding on his suit jacket. Locking it behind him, he walked to the elevator. Stepping out into the garage, he unlocked the door. As he was about to slide into the driver's seat, he spotted something under the windshield wiper. Looking around warily, he found no one else in the vicinity. Reaching into the glovebox, he pulled out a latex glove. Sliding it on, he reached out and pulled the card from underneath the rubber blade. Flipping it over, his eyes grew wide as he scanned the card. He looked back around the garage again, his eyes darting over every surface.

Hearing the 'ding' of the elevator, he quickly stuffed the card into his suit jacket's interior pocket before pulling off the glove. Shoving into his pants pocket, he turned, just as Keren approached the car. "Ready?" she said, smiling.

Masking his concern, he smiled in return and walked around to hold open the car door. Once she was secured, he returned to the driver's side, climbed in and started the car. Pulling out, he quickly drove the few miles to the little bistro near the office. Parking across the street, Dimitri maintained a vigilant posture, his gaze strafing the other businesses and domiciles. Catching Keren giving him a look of concern, he reigned in his paranoia, pulling out the chair for her as they took a seat inside the restaurant.

"Everything okay?" she asked, concern lacing her words.

Looking up from the small menu, Dimitri attempted a reassuring smile. "Yeah, fine. Just preoccupied with the mission."

He could tell by her expression she wasn't buying it, but let it drop. After ordering, they fell back into an easy conversation. "Have you talked to your mom or sisters lately?" she asked, sipping her café.

Nodding, he replied, "Briefly. They want me to come for a visit. I can't get them to understand that I just can't get up and leave in the middle of an investigation."

Sighing, Keren responded, "Dimitri, this case has become your life. You have got to find a balance. If not, it's going to drag you down a damn rabbit hole that I'm afraid you'll never crawl out of."

Dimitri's eyes darkened. "I thought you said you understood?"

Shaking her head, she replied, "I do, believe me. That's why I'm concerned." She paused, swirling the coffee in her cup, seemingly fascinated by its contents. "I never told you about why I left Mossad, did I?" Shaking his head, he waited for her to continue. Taking a deep breath, she moved a little closer, lowering her voice. "There was a terror cell that was targeting both Israeli and Palestinian children. Only their interest wasn't in promoting some holy or righteous cause. They were in the business of selling the children to brothels. Just like we'd expect from a normal terrorist group, they would set off a car bomb or a suicide bomber would turn up in a random location. We eventually were able to discern these were just distractions. It wasn't until we caught a break and were able to locate one of the abducted children that we learned of their real objective."

Dimitri listened quietly. Of course, he had heard of the operation. It had become part of the curriculum at most law enforcement agencies. Even established agents, such as himself, had been required to attend classes on the new business-side of terrorism. They had also updated and refreshed everyone on the sex trafficking methods and practices. It was the one class, in all of his years of training that had nearly made him vomit. Needless to say, he had finished off an entire bottle of vodka the last night of class.

"What no one knows, except for a select few is that I knew one of the girls taken," Keren said quietly. While her demeanor remained calm, he could feel the table shaking slightly as she nervously shook her leg. Inhaling again, as if she had forgotten to breathe, she continued, "She was the daughter of a friend of mine. I had watched her grow up. She was so sweet, kind and gentle." Huffing, she said, "I shouldn't be surprised they took her. She was always too trusting. No matter how much her parents and I tried to explain the dangers of the world, she would always see the best in everyone."

Seeing her eyes welling with tears, Dimitri reached his hand across the table, squeezing it gently. "Hey," he whispered, "you don't have to do this."

Pulling her hand free, she swiped it across her eyes harshly before gazing into his. "Yes, I do," she said firmly. "When I found out about Rachel, I threw myself into the investigation. I lost friends, pushed family away, and nearly starved myself to death. I rarely slept, and I ate even less. I started to see her face in every child I saw. I started taking risks, not only with my own life but with my teams' as well." Pausing, she took a long gulp of her now cold coffee. Setting the cup down, she said, "When we finally caught the bastards, it was too late. Rachel had died not long after she was abducted. We never did get her body back for burial."

"Keren, you can't possibly blame yourself?" he asked, stunned by that assumption.

Shaking her head, she replied, "No, I don't. Not for what happened to Rachel."

"Then what…" he said before she interrupted him.

"What I do blame myself for is that I let it consume my life. I blame myself for losing focus. I blame myself for not being there when my mother was dying." Sniffing, she paused before continuing, "She was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer two years before we took down the group. During those last two years of her life, I spent a total of one month with her." Wiping at her eyes, she turned her gaze toward the windows, her eyes unfocused as if she was some other place…some other time. Turning back to look at him after a few minutes, she said, "Now do you see why I'm worried? Dimitri, you can't let your ambition and pride drive away those who care about you or those you care about." Reaching across the table to lay her hand over his, she said, "Promise me, if we don't get Le Chat in Paris that you'll take a break and go visit your family. I'm not asking you to give up your crusade. I'm just asking you to not let it control you."

Dimitri sat in stunned silence, his only acknowledgment a small nod. Squeezing her hand gently, he pulled it back, rubbing the top of his coat where the card lay hidden. They sat in silence for a few more minutes before rising to head back to the office.

Pulling into the garage, Dimitri walked Keren back to her office before heading toward his own. Closing the door, he turned the lock before slipping behind his desk. Reaching into the inner pocket, he pulled the card out, gazing at the words, 'You have a mole. Zmey. Closing his eyes, he crumpled the card fiercely in his hand. Shoving it into his pocket, he grabbed the files and headed toward the conference room. He decided he'd process and deal with Zmey's revelation later.

Walking past Hans' office, he stopped at the desk of the director's assistant, Natalie Dashkov. The young woman was typing furiously as he approached. Looking up as he approached, a shy smile rose on her face as she resettled her thick, framed glasses. "Good afternoon, Agent Belikov. How may I help you?"

Smiling kindly at the young woman, he replied, "I'm headed to the conference room for the briefing on the Le Chat case. Would you let Director Croft know, in case he wanted to sit in?"

"Certainly. He's not yet back from lunch. I'll inform him as soon as he returns."

"Thank you, Natalie," he said as he walked toward the conference room.

Walking into the small room, Dimitri was relieved to see that everyone was already waiting, chatting amongst themselves. He smiled, relieved, as he saw Alberta talking animatedly with the others. The shooting had rattled Dimitri more than he acknowledged to anyone. Alberta wasn't only a fellow agent, but also his mentor and friend. Thinking back on Keren's words, he worried that he might not have been as present during her recovery as he should have been. Dimitri decided at that moment to make sure his focus was where it should be – on his team members and friends. He wouldn't let his obsession cause them to be hurt, or much worse, die.

"Okay, let's get started. I've already filled in Keren, but there's still a lot to cover." Turning around, he picked up the remote and clicked on the projector. An image of the Royal Star of Paris was displayed to the group. It was a stunning brooch. At the center, a yellow diamond, weighing over one hundred seven carats, framed by an abstract formation of pear and brilliant cut diamonds. Hanging beneath it was a hundred carat D Flawless pear-cut white diamond. The collective gasps of many in the room came as no surprise. "This is what we believe Le Chat is after. Given their propensity for expensive and specialized jewelry, along with their apparent enjoyment of a challenge, we believe he or she will be targeting the Star." He heard a scoff and turned to see a look of incredulity on Eddie's face. "You have something to say, Agent Castile?"

Suddenly looking sheepish, Eddie's expression grew serious. "Not really. I mean I guess I find it hard to believe that anyone in their right mind would think they could steal from the Louvre."

"Someone actually did," Alberta chimed in. "Back in 1911, a man, posing as a worker, stole the Mona Lisa right out from under everyone's nose."

Eddie chortled, "Okay, sure, but that was over a century ago. With today's security and surveillance equipment, it has to be impossible!"

"Difficult? Yes. Challenging? Most definitely. Impossible? I'd say definitely not." Pausing, Dimitri continued, "Listen, folks, this is not your run of the mill jewel thief. Whoever this person is, they're well-funded, well trained and skilled. Do not underestimate them." he stressed.

"So, how do you propose we catch the feisty feline?" Ivan asked, smirking.

Narrowing his eyes at him, Dimitri replied, "There's a gala tomorrow night at the museum to celebrate the unveiling. If Le Chat is going to try for the broach, he or she will definitely be in attendance. They'll want to check out the layout as well as the security measures and systems. We'll all be in attendance. Alberta, you'll be outside in the van, running facial recognition software against all the databases. The museum's security will provide you with a live feed to their cameras. While they feel much like Eddie, here, they're still willing to take the threat as a possibility."

"What about the rest of us?" Ivan asked.

"We'll be going as attendees. I'll want everyone to try to speak to as many guests as possible. Obviously, you can avoid any of the political dignitaries or known law enforcement. We'll have run thorough checks on all the museum staff, as well as the catering staff. Talk to as many people as you can. Use your training and skills to narrow down a list of suspects. Call in anyone you feel might be a potential target. Alberta will narrow her focus on those individuals, running the image through the databases, as well as doing in-depth background screenings."

"Do you expect any trouble tomorrow night?" Eddie asked.

Dimitri shook his head. "I don't think they'll make a move tomorrow. It will be about scoping the area; making a plan. However, that doesn't mean you shouldn't be on guard. I want everyone armed. Dress appropriately, but make sure you can conceal your weapon. You see anything suspicious, I want you to call it in immediately. Understood?"

Everyone in the room nodded, the seriousness of the mission fully realized. While Le Chat had never been violent or displayed such tendencies, it didn't mean that he or she wouldn't strike out if they felt cornered – much like a feral cat.


	3. Chapter 3: Stalking the Prey

**Would like to send out my prayers and thoughts to those in France, and especially Nice. My heart breaks for what you have had to endure of late. Mon coeur est avec la France.**

 **Also, a quick shout-out to all those who have reviewed/favorited/followed, including my own mother (Love you!). Thanks also goes out to my friend, Tiffany for helping me catch any errors. You rock! Also, thank you Vinaa for helping as well!**

 **Sorry this has taken so long. Work's been tough. Chapter 4 is already done, but just off being reviewed right now. My goal is to keep the updates to a week or less.**

 **TRANSLATIONS (I apologize in advance if Google or I butchered these):**

 **Bonjour. Bienvenue sur le George Cinq – Good day. Welcome to the George V**

 **Comment puis-je vous aider – How may I help you**

 **J'ai une réservation sous le nom Catherine Hirsiz – I have a reservation under the name Catherine Hirsiz**

 **S'il vous plaît profiter de votre séjour – Please, enjoy your stay**

 **Service de chamber – Room service**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own the plot and Keren Prize. Richelle Mead owns all the VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Stalking the Prey**

Rose stepped off the Gulfstream, just outside of Paris, her now usually long, dark hair hidden beneath a shoulder-length brown wig, infused with blonde highlights. Rose had gone with forest green contacts this time. Her standard short nails were once again fitted with glamour-length tips painted in a siren red. She was wearing brick red, crêpe linen shorts with a matching waterfall jacket. Under that, she wore an eggplant-colored, shoestring-strap halter top. She had chosen her three-inch slim stiletto sandals with an ankle strap tie.

Slipping into the back seat of the sedan Abe had arranged, she was whisked down the highway toward downtown Paris. Sitting back for the just over thirty-minute drive, she reviewed the dossier once again. Catharine Hirsiz was a twenty-four-year-old writer for a modest fashion magazine. Incidentally, it was owned by one of Abe's many legitimate businesses and wholly untraceable back to the mobster. As far as anyone would be concerned, should they attempt to delve into her background, she was exactly who it said she was. Inside an envelope the driver had handed her upon her arrival was a ticket to the gala that evening.

Pulling up in front of the hotel, Rose waited for the doorman to open her door before sliding out onto the sidewalk. She walked ahead, letting the driver transfer her bags to the waiting porter. Gliding through the now open doors, she strode toward the reservations desk. "Bonjour. Bienvenue sur le George V," the elegant young woman behind the counter said, smiling slightly. "Comment puis-je vous aider?"

"J'ai une réservation pour Catherine Hirsiz," Rose replied, her accent immaculate.

The woman typed furiously across the keyboard, her long, painted nails clacking against the plastic. Looking back up, the smile once again plaster on her face, she replied in flawless English, "Yes, of course. I see you will be staying with us for two nights, Mademoiselle Hirsiz. May I see your passport please?"

"Of course," Rose replied, keeping her American accent non-descriptive. Pulling out the document, she handed it to the young woman.

"Merci. One moment please." The woman proceeded to scan the papers before printing out the reservation details. Presenting it to Rose, she instructed, "Please check that the information is correct and then sign at the bottom."

Glancing over the information, Rose scribbled a hasty signature across the bottom of the page. She slid it across to the clerk, her own fake smile affixed.

Handing back the passport, the woman gave Rose a keycard for her room. "You are in room 223. You have a king bed with a view of the courtyard. Please let us know if we may assist you in any way during your stay," she said while moving to attend other business.

Rose slid the card into her pocket after slipping the passport back into her bag. Turning, she followed the waiting porter to the elevator, stepping in ahead of him. Exiting after the quick ride to the second floor, Rose followed the young man down the hall until he stopped in front of her room. Removing the card, she slid it into the slot, listening for that sweet clicking noise. Ever since honing her burglary skills, Rose had found a peacefulness in various sounds related to her new profession. The noise tumblers inside locking mechanisms made were like a sweet symphony to her ears.

Stepping into the room, Rose walked toward the desk, setting her purse down before pulling out her wallet. Withdrawing two euro from inside, she turned and slipped them into the young man's hand. "Merci beaucoup," she said, following him to the door.

"Merci, Mademoiselle. S'il vous plaît profiter de votre séjour."

Smiling, she closed the door behind him, locking it tightly. Reaching into her bag, Rose pulled out the frequency detector, silently sweeping the entire room. Finding no signs of listening devices, she sighed deeply and walked to the bed. Sitting down, she untied the heels before slipping them off, rubbing her weary feet for a few moments. Reaching up, Rose gently pulled the wig from her head, tugging her own hair free. Breathing deeply, she ran her hands through the long strands, relishing in the unbridled silken texture. Scratching at her scalp, Rose stood, noticing for the first time a large bag hanging in the closet. Eyeing it suspiciously, she crept closer. Sticking out from the top was an envelope. Gently pulling it out, she slipped the single card from the interior. "Thought this might bring you luck." It was signed "Zmey." Rose grinned, appreciating the man's foresight and sometimes conflicting consideration. If she were a betting woman, she'd place a wager on whether the man was suffering a mental disorder, such were his rapid mood swings.

Laying the card down, Rose drew her attention back to the bag. Grasping the zipper, she pulled it down slowly. Gasping, she took in the dress beneath. Damn, Rose thought, the man had excellent taste. Zipping it back up, she walked to the bar, pulling out a bottle of sparkling water. Pouring some into a crystal cut glass, she walked back to the desk. Setting down the drink, Rose pulled out her laptop, plugging it in and powering it up. While she waited, she shed her jacket before walking to the windows. Pulling back the curtain with one hand, she eyed the blue orchids hanging over the fountain and tables. It was nearly dusk, as the shadows began to fade away, embraced by the darkening skies.

Turning back to the desk, she sat down, scrolling through her email. She smiled warmly, thinking of Mia. She was the tech genius who ensured Rose had whatever toys she needed to get the jobs done. Mason had shown mild appreciation as well, stating it had taken their encryption teams nearly a month to finally decipher one of her programs. She had laughed when he had later told her the encryption had subsequently been changed. If Mia was anything, it was vigilant. Rose had almost felt guilty for all the work the agency had put into cracking the organization's systems. It was the fine line she walked ever second of every day – between allegiance to the agency and her mission.

Picking up the phone in the room, she called down to room service. She hadn't eaten anything except the protein shake earlier that morning. While she waited for the food to be delivered, she grabbed a quick shower, wrapping her hair in a towel. She then made sure nothing incriminating was lying about the room.

A quick rap to the door announced the arrival of room service, as well as the porter's call, "Service de chamber, Mademoiselle."

Padding across the floor, she unlocked the door, stepping back to allow the man to enter. Pushing the cart in, he set the silver tray with its domed cover on the small table near the side chair in the corner of the room. Pulling the cork on the bottle of 2005 Château Barreyres, he let it breathe while he removed the lid from the plate. Rose inhaled deeply as the aromas floated around her, causing her stomach to rumble loudly. Glancing at the porter from the corner of her eye, she saw a small smile play at his lips. "Please, Mademoiselle, enjoy your meal. Let us know if you need anything further," he said before pouring a glass of the Bordeaux. Rose gave him a small tip before he exited the room.

Curling up in the chair, she proceeded to devour the salade Lyonnaise, coq au vin with poached leeks, a small assortment of cheeses, and an apple tart. She was relaxing, sipping the glass of wine while listening to Edit Piaf's dulcet tones sing "Hymne à L'amour." As the words washed over her, she couldn't help the clutch at her heart. In all her adult years, since taking on her mission, she had never experienced love; had never been in a relationship that wasn't based in lies. She had hardened her heart against the dangers being in love brought in her profession. To become vulnerable to another person like that could cause her to lose focus; cause her to fail her mission, or worse yet, be killed. Shaking off that small part that called out for love and companionship, she downed the rest of the glass of wine.

Standing, she walked back to the computer, bringing it back up to check for any messages. Mia had sent her the latest security systems and measures the Louvre had, as well as the blueprints for the museum. Adrian had emailed the guest list for the gala, as well as pictures for all the attendees. As a writer for a fashion magazine, she would be expected to recognize anyone there from that world. While Rose loved beautiful clothes, couture was not her forte.

She spent the rest of the evening studying the dossiers for the attendees, memorizing the blueprints, and outlining her plans for the gala. She knew full well that law enforcement would be anticipating an attempt on the jewel. They'd be stupid not to. However, she would hazard a guess they wouldn't be expecting it that very night. That would be their biggest mistake. She chuckled at the arrogance. No place was utterly impervious. She thought back with amusement to her trial back at Langley when she was honing her skills. One of the assignments had been to break into the building. Not only that, but she'd been required to also infiltrate the Director's office – during the day. While there had been some missteps, eventually she had succeeded. Her success has prompted the agency to rethink their security measures.

Taking one last sip from her glass, she yawned widely before shutting down the computer. Setting the dinner tray outside her room, she locked the door and then slipped between the soft, silky sheets. Flipping off the light, she curled onto her side, drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

The incessant ringing woke Rose from her restful slumber. Reaching over, she lifted the offending device off the bedside table, swiped across the screen, placing it to her ear. "The better be important," she bit out.

"Good morning to you too, Lilly," Abe said, his voice tinged with humor.

Quickly sitting up, Rose pushed her hair from her face, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. Shit, she thought. Abe rarely called her when she was on an assignment. "Sorry, Abe. Good morning," she said, her voice still thick with sleep.

"No worries, my dear. I apologize for waking you. I'm sure you were up late, preparing as always."

"Can't ever be too prepared," she replied, sliding her feet to the floor. As she moved past the front door, she spied a small envelope resting in front of it. Picking it up, she opened it, pulling out a single sheet of paper. 'The gardens are lovely this time of year' was all that written. Ripping it into small pieces, she walked to the bathroom, flushing them down the toilet. Making her way back out to the small bar with the phone nestled between her ear and shoulder, she moved to fill the machine with water. "Is there a problem, sir?"

"No, I just wanted to see if you received the item I had delivered to your hotel room?"

Dumping the coffee into the filter, she shut the lid, flipping on the power button. Turning away, she walked back to the desk, lifting the cover on the computer before powering it on. "If you mean the absolutely stunning, and probably costly, dress, then yes. Thank you," she said as she sat down at the desk.

"Well, I figured if you were a writer for a fashion magazine, you'd need to wear the latest fashion to such a grand event."

Rose chuckled. "Well, that will definitely fit the bill." Silence hung over the line for a moment, so much so that Rose pulled the phone away from her ear momentarily to ensure she hadn't lost the call. Putting it back to her ear, she said, "Abe? Is there something else?"

Sighing, he replied, "Actually, there is. I'm sure you've already considered there will be an elevated police presence tonight."

Nodding, she replied, "Of course. They'd be foolish not to be prepared."

She heard him sigh again as if hesitating. Finally, he said, "I know for a fact that Interpol will be heavily staking out the event. They're focused on Le Chat, specifically. I know the lead agent. We go way back. He's dedicated, driven and pretty pissed off at you for that job in Germany last year with the Dresden Green. He'll be out for blood."

Rose nodded again, forgetting he couldn't see her. "Makes sense. Anything you can tell me to work around whatever they might have planned?" Rose was gnawing at her thumb, her nerves growing. She had studied the agents within Interpol extensively when she had started this mission. She also remembered the flutter in her gut when she had seen the picture that had come with Agent Belikov's file. The man was drop-dead gorgeous. His dark hair hung just past his chin, and the piercing chocolate brown eyes that had haunted her dreams for quite a while after Germany. He also possessed the attributes Abe had listed. She knew he was a good agent – no, one of the best. Rose had almost felt sorry for duping him. Again, she cursed that fine line.

"They'll probably run facial recognition on all the guests. That won't be a problem for you. I assume he and his team will be at the gala. My guess is they'll be doing hands-on assessments; a meet and greet if you will. One of the agents on his team is ex-Mossad. Her name is Keren Prinz. She is one of the best. They call her the "human lie detector." If she is there, make sure to steer clear," Abe instructed.

Rose had read her file as well. She smiled slightly, thinking how much she had admired the woman. Hell, she even thought they might have been friends. Unfortunately, right now she was the enemy, one of many who would stand in the way of Rose's ultimate goal. Shuttering her emotions, she returned her thoughts to the gala. "I think I might try for the Star tonight, after the gala. I'm headed to the museum shortly to do some recon. Get a lay of the land, as it were."

"Sounds risky," Abe said, concern in his voice. "Why not wait? Let them think they were wrong; let them become complacent.

Rose laughed. "Where's the fun in that?"

Chortling, Abe replied, "Fine, fine. Just be careful. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

"No worries, old man. Haven't been caught yet, and I don't plan on letting it happen soon," Rose responded before hanging up.

After a quick shower, she slipped her wig back into place and put in the contacts before dressing and heading out. Opting for the "Parisian" look, she wore a pair of navy, cotton capri pants with a sleeveless pink blouse with a lace overlay. As the back was transparent, she opted to wear a matching navy short waist jacket on top. The less attention she drew to herself, the better. She put on a pair of nude ballerina flats before slipping her bag over her shoulder. Setting her sunglasses on top of her head, she hid the laptop and secured any items which might draw suspicion. Opening the door to the room, she placed the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the handle before pulling it closed.

Taking the stairs from the second floor, she exited into the lobby. Striding out the doors, she walked across the street to Le Renoma Café Gallery. Selecting a chocolate croissant and ordering a hot chocolate, Rose stepped outside, sitting at a table nestled against the building. Sipping her beverage and picking at the croissant, she casually watched the passersby, looking for anomalies. Not letting her focus wane, Rose did, however, laugh internally as she realized the absurdity of the moment. Here she was, in what was dubbed the most romantic city in the world, focused on the threats and dangers that might surround her. For most people, they would be relaxed, enjoying the experience.

Sensing she wasn't being watched, she dropped a small tip on the table before standing and walking the few blocks to the metro station. Purchasing a ticket, she boarded the train for the short ride to the Palais Royal - Musée du Louvre stop. Exiting the station, she walked to the museum. Entering the Pyramid and walking down the stairs, she approached the ticket line. Paying the fifteen euros, she then made her way to the Denon wing which housed the Decorative Arts. Pulling out the black framed glasses, she slipped them on, surreptitiously pressing the small button located on the frame.

Walking amongst the enclosed glass cases, she pretended to be fascinated by the numerous exhibits. Meanwhile, she made a point to gaze upon the noticeable security cameras located around the room, as well as observing the various guards and their routes and procedures. Making a couple of passes through the exhibit, she proceeded out and back down the escalator, taking in the other security cameras and measures the museum had in place. While there were no metal detectors in regular use, she was confident they would be brought in for the gala. Having to go in unarmed gave her little pause. At the first sense that she wouldn't be able to make a clean getaway, she would abandon the mission and instead make another attempt later. Rose might be bold and brazen, but she was definitely not stupid.

* * *

Leaving the museum a couple of hours later, she walked through the Jardin des Tuileries before making her way to the metro. Taking the train back, she disembarked at the Concorde station, taking the steps up to Rue de Rivoli. Heading toward the Champs-Élysées, she slowly walked past the gate to the U. S. Embassy, scanning the pedestrians and cars. After several more passes, assured that she wasn't being tailed, she made her way to the tent which housed the checkpoint. Waiting until the other guests had exited, she approached the young Marine. "May I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, I was hoping to take a private tour of the grounds," she said. "I understand the gardens are beautiful this time of year."

Nodding, the man said, "Please place your hand on the tablet."

Laying it on the device, she waited until her credentials were displayed. Glancing at them, the man handed her a visitor's badge before saying, "Have a pleasant visit, ma'am."

Tilting her head slightly, Rose walked out and toward the gated entrance. Stepping through after it was unlocked, she made her way to the building and through the main door. Once inside, she walked to the reception desk. The young woman smiled. "They're waiting for you Conference Room B, Agent Hathaway."

Rose nodded then walked around toward the hallway behind the desk. Reaching the door to the conference room, she pushed it open and stepped through, closing it behind her. "About time, Hathaway," Mason joked, stepping out from the large conference room table. Wrapping his arms around her for a quick hug, he released her saying, "Nice job in London, by the way. The transmitter is working perfectly."

"You had doubts?" she teased.

Mason chuckled, then turned as he heard the woman's voice. "Good to see you, Agent Hathaway." Rose turned to see Associate Deputy Director Natasha Ozera walking toward her. Reaching out her hand, they shook briefly before the woman continued, "Mason's right. Nicely done. We're already putting together teams to chase down leads we've gotten from the intel off the transmitter. Once we've used up whatever information the sheik can provide, we will put together a report to pass along to the authorities to initiate the proper arrest warrants and seizures. Hopefully, the sheik will find himself short a few summer palaces."

Sadly, due to tenuous political relationships with many countries in that part of the world, Rose knew the only real damage they would be able to inflict on the sheik was financial – freezing bank accounts and seizing various holdings. However, hopefully, the intelligence they gathered would get them one step closer to their primary target – the elusive leader of The Revolutionary Front. "Good to hear, Director Ozera," Rose responded.

Scoffing, but smiling warmly, the woman said, "Please, Rose. I think while we're in a secure U.S. facility, you can call me Tasha."

Grinning back at her, she replied, "So, Tasha, did you come all the way to Paris to make sure I didn't screw this up?"

Rolling her eyes, Tasha replied, "You aren't exactly the type to need handholding." Pausing, she looked to Mason, a worried look on both their faces. "I'm here because there's chatter."

Rose's eyes narrowed, knowing that it would have to be severe to risk this type of exposure. "What is it?" she asked, her voice low.

Sighing, Tasha responded, "It would appear that the Front has put out a hit on Le Chat. It seems they've finally noticed the correlation between the jobs you've pulled and the hits they've taken to their operations. I don't think they've made the connection yet, as to who you work for, directly, but they definitely have their suspicions. If this gets back to Mazur, things could get ugly fast."

"I spoke with Abe this morning. He didn't give any indication he had any suspicions. In fact, he seemed unusually jovial and concerned for my safety."

Mason spoke up, "Shouldn't we be concerned when the snake is smiling?"

Rose glanced at Mason, realizing he might have a point. Abe's apprehension and warmth on the phone earlier could have been him merely giving her a false sense of security. Tasha pulled Rose from her thoughts when she asked, "Did Mazur tell you who the buyer is?"

Rose shook her head, "No, not yet. I usually don't find out until it's time to the make the exchange."

Tasha studied Rose for a moment before saying, "What's your famous gut saying?"

Walking around them toward the windows, she looked out upon the gardens. Rose knew that whoever the buyer was, it had to be someone noteworthy; someone with ties to all things illegal. If that were the case, it would be another possible connection to The Front's elusive leader. She had spent too many years chasing the bastard to give up now; had lost and given up too much. Turning around, she said, "It could be a trap or test. I'm still going through with the job. It still might lead us to the group's leader."

"But, Rose," Mason said before she interrupted him.

"Mason, I know what you're going to say. I appreciate your concern, I really do. But this is happening," she said. Turning to Tasha, she asked, "Right?"

Looking at Rose for a few moments, the woman finally nodded her head. "You've got a green light. However," she said, pointing at Rose, "if we even get a whiff that you're in trouble, I'm pulling you out."

"Fine," Rose replied. "So, are we going to get any inside help on this one?"

"I'm still working on getting the French government to assist, but I don't think they're keen on taking the hit the bad publicity will garner the museum and their security forces if you succeed," Tasha said. Taking in Rose's glare, she amended, "When you succeed."

"Okay then, I guess I'll just have to rely on Mia's skills."

Tasha laughed. "You know once this is all said and done, I think we might have to make a proposition to young Miss. Rinaldi. Think she'd be interested in working for the good guys?"

Rose chuckled, uncertain she could picture Mia as a government employee. Shrugging, though, she replied, "It wouldn't hurt to try. Besides, once we're done, Mia's looking at a lot of time in a prison someplace. As much as I hate that, she made her choice. I just hope she's not stupid enough to reject an offer." Rose loved the young hacker and technical guru, but she couldn't just stand by and let her commit what could be tantamount to acts of treason. Her day of reckoning would be soon, and Rose vowed to do everything in her power to persuade Mia to make the right choice.

"I better head out. I've got to get back to the hotel and prepare for tonight." Turning to Mason, she said, "Should I expect to see your pasty face there?"

Glaring at her, Mason replied, "If you do see me, then I haven't done my job."

Turning to leave, Tasha's words stopped her in her tracks, "Watch out for Dimitri." Looking back, she could see the small smirk on the woman's lips. She remembered that Tasha had grown up with both Agent's Belikov and Zeklos. She wondered how the fact that Rose had been eluding her friends, causing them to look badly among their employer made Tasha feel. "He'll be out for blood, you know. He was always pretty competitive."

Rose nodded before turning around and walking out of the room. Making her way out the front, she slipped her badge off, laying it on the reception desk. Exiting the building, Rose walked out the gate and down the street. Deciding to forgo the train, she walked the one and a half kilometers back to the hotel. As she neared, Rose did her usual checks, circling and doubling back before entering the building. Making her way to her room, she opened the door before doing a quick visual sweep to ensure nothing had been altered. Pulling out the detector, Rose swept the room once again. This was the problem with using hotels, she thought. She would always have to be on guard.

Rose checked her email, noting one from Adrian with details of where their contact would be leaving her equipment. While Tasha was more than likely not going to be able to gain assistance from the French authorities, Abe had someone on the inside. The man would leave her bag with a change of clothes and tools in a storage closet within the museum. He would also leave a ventilation shaft open, leading out on the side of the Seine. From there, she would take a small boat up the river to Saint-Denis. A car would be waiting for her further down river, taking her straight to the airport and the waiting Gulfstream.

It was nearly time for her to meet the car downstairs. Taking one last look in the mirror, she assessed her appearance. She was wearing the same wig, but now it was slightly curled. The green of the contacts was highlighted by her smoky eye makeup. She smoothed her hands over the soft, red material. The sleeveless dress draped from the waist loosely to her ankles. The empire waist was accented by a wide band of material. The illusion top was covered in beaded, crochet floral designs, giving the impression of flowers and vines growing up from the waist to cover her chest and shoulders. The back had a key-hole opening, with the same designs along the sides and on either side. She slipped on her pair of strappy heeled sandals with a metallic leather finish along the straps. Sliding the silver cuff on her wrist, she put on the sterling silver, white sapphire and diamond chandelier earrings.

Grabbing her clutch, she carefully gathered the rest of her belongings. She had already cleaned the room, removing any trace of her DNA or fingerprints. Leaving, she made her way to the elevator. Stepping in, she pushed the lobby button, waiting for the doors to close. Opening again at her destination, she stepped out. Waiting just inside the doors was the driver Abe had hired to take her to the airport after the heist. He took her bags, walking her to the waiting sedan. Sliding into the back, Rose waited for him to load the bags in the trunk. Settling himself behind the driver's seat, he pulled out into traffic, making his way to the museum.

A short ride later, they pulled up, turning onto the museum grounds off the Quai François Mitterrand. Rolling down her window, Rose handed the soldier her identification and invitation. After checking the car and her driver's credentials, they waved the car through. Releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Rose sat back until the car pulled to a stop in front of the Pyramid. A moment later, the door was opened. Reaching out, she took the extended hand, the driver helping her out of the car. With a slight nod, he released her hand before turning and sliding back behind the wheel.

Rose followed the other throng of attendees as they made their way into the glass and steel building. Inching her way toward the security checkpoint, she calmly observed the French soldiers, posted at various entrances and exits. Rose smirked as she saw they still carried the old Famas G2 automatic rifles. She'd take a Beretta ARX100 any day. Approaching the metal detector, she placed her small handbag in the basket before walking through the device. Knowing she wouldn't set it off, she strode to the end, collecting her bag before walking to the escalator that would take the guests to the Denon wing of the museum. Stepping into a nearby restroom, she pulled on her black, metal, filigree mask, set with Swarovski crystals, from her bag. Slipping it over her eyes, she tied the satin ribbon at the back, covering it with the wig.

Walking out, she made her way down the hall, following other attendees. She eventually entered the room, her eyes roving over the guests and obvious security. She was scanning the room, performing her usual surveillance when she froze. He was standing across the room, watching her; his gaze intense. Even with the black mask, she knew him. Her breath caught as she took in his dashing figure. She was surprised at his height. While she had read the file, seeing him in person, the picture didn't do him justice. His dark brown hair, nearly to his shoulders, itched to have her hands running through it. She could tell through the tailored tuxedo his body was chiseled from marble; taut and lean. After what seemed like several minutes, she pulled herself from her daze. Giving him her best "come and get me" look, she walked away, heading toward the bar. Internally, she was shaken. Her focus had to be on the job. There could be no distractions, and that's precisely what Dimitri Belikov was.


	4. Chapter 4: The Fake Out

**Thank you all for your kind reviews/favorites/follows. Thanks again to Tiffany and Vinaa for their help. To the guests that reviewed, thank you too (since I can't respond directly).**

 **Just a heads up...I am almost sure I've gotten a new job. It will require to work a bit more and to also move a few hours away. All this is to warn the readers that I might have a span of time where I won't be able to update weekly. I'll try my best to keep up my pseudo-schedule.**

 **So, here's what many have been waiting for...the meet. Enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns all the other VA stuff.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: The Fake Out**

The team was in position. Alberta was stationed in the museum's security office. As each person passed through the metal detectors, the cameras inside would send the image for analysis. The rest of the team were stationed inside, milling around with the other guests. Each was dressed to fit in, either in tuxedos or ball gowns. All wore some sort of mask, per the theme of the gala. Dimitri wore a black paper mâché mask which covered his eyes. Silver veins ran through the surface. While Keren had admired it, Dimitri had to stay his hands to keep from ripping it off. He felt frustrated as if it impeded his ability to see clearly. The critical nature of their mission weighed on him already.

Rolling his shoulders slightly, he continued to scan the crowd from a corner of the room. Albert had radioed in that there had been no red flags from the scans they had run so far. Based on the invitation list provided by the museum, there were at least another hundred guests yet to arrive. Dimitri sighed before steeling himself for the long night ahead. Stay focused, he thought. Shifting his eyes back to the door, his gaze froze; his muscles contracted. It was as if he suddenly developed tunnel vision as he took in the sight of her. The woman was wearing a red dress, and from his vantage point, it appeared as if red vines and flowers blossomed up from the high waist over her bare chest. Focusing, he saw that, in fact, there was a nude, nearly see-through material underneath. Moving his eyes up, he caught her staring at him as well. He resisted the urge to smirk. Like what you see?

He watched as her eyes raked over him before she gave him a brilliant, sensual smile. He felt a trickle of disappointment when she turned and walked to the bar. Something inside him burned to join her, but his sense of duty was warring within him. He gazed around the room, finding his team. They were all milling about, observing the other guests. Some were standing with small groups, engaged in conversation. Deciding he might do the same, for the sake of the mission, he strode over toward the bar. As he approached, he moved down a bit from where the woman stood. "Perrier," he ordered, before glancing surreptitiously toward the other end. She was standing alone, nursing a glass of champagne. Up close, she was even more attractive, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Instead of the blondish brown hair and green eyes, his mind saw her with long dark hair and deep brown eyes. Internally, he shook the image, attesting it to his recent activity with Keren.

So caught up in his own mired thoughts, he failed to notice she had moved closer. Inhaling deeply at being caught off guard, his senses were assaulted with an enticing aroma; a heady mixture of fruity, musky and floral. Whatever it was, it had his anatomy rising to the occasion. Groaning slightly, he mustered his resolve, forcing the images and feelings down. He knew that now was not the time or place.

"Bored as much as I am?" the sultry voice next to him asked.

Looking down at the woman, he stared into her eyes, momentarily caught with a loss for words. Coughing slightly, he took a quick sip from his glass before replying, "Not really my cup of tea."

Nodding slightly, the woman responded, "Me either."

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Really? So then what brings you here?"

Dimitri caught the quick smirk which once again ignited something deep inside. "Work. You?"

"Same. What sort of work requires you to attend a museum gala in Paris?"

"I'm a writer for a small fashion magazine. It's tailored for the wealthy elite," she said, rolling her eyes.

Dimitri chuckled, "I take it you aren't fond of your clientele?"

Smiling up at him, she replied, "Not exactly. I started as an intern while in college, then moved into a research position after graduation. When the writer who covered accessories left to marry one of Forbes' 400, the editor offered me the slot. My goal had always been to move on to do serious journalism."

Smiling, Dimitri said, "Ambition is a good thing. What magazine? Maybe I've read some of your work." He tried to keep his inquires subtle, but something was driving him to learn more about the mystery woman.

"La Crème," she said with a wincing expression.

Dimitri chuckled. "Well, they do say that cream rises to the top."

Raising her glass, she replied, "That's exactly why I am desperate to move on. How pretentious is that?"

He watched, fascinated, as she placed the glass to her full, red lips. His eyes caught the fact that as she pulled the glass away, there was no telltale impression of lipstick on the rim. A small spark lit inside as he realized the luscious color was all natural. It seemed as if his thoughts had taken on a life of their own as he went from that to images of tasting them for himself. Once again, he had to internally shake himself, pushing his focus back to where it belonged. "So, do you have someplace else you'd rather be working?"

Her gaze fell just past his shoulder, as if in deep thought. Meeting his eyes once again, she responded, "The Wall Street Journal."

"I'm impressed," he said. "That's a lofty goal for someone not that long out of college."

She scoffed, saying, "I've been out for quite some time." She paused before continuing, "Although, they say a woman should never reveal her age." She winked up at him before taking another sip from her glass.

"I promise, I had no plans to ask. My mama taught me better."

"Oh, please tell me you're not one of those men they call a 'mama's boy'?"

"Well, if you mean someone who loves and respects their mother, then I'm afraid I'm guilty."

Narrowing her eyes, she replied, "Well that's perfectly acceptable, as long as she's still not doing your laundry and you're not still living in her basement." Pausing briefly, she held out her hand. "I'm Catharine, by the way."

Clasping her small hand, his eyes widened slightly, as he felt a charge thrum through his hand and into his body. Quickly recovering, he replied, "Dimitri. Nice to meet you." He immediately sensed the loss of her hand as it slipped from his.

"So," she said, tilting her head slightly. "You know a bit about me. Tell me, what brings you to this little shindig?"

Smiling he said, "Work, as well. I'm an art history professor."

Raising her eyebrows beneath the intricate mask, she queried, "No disrespect intended, but how does a teacher warrant an invitation to something so exclusive?"

Turning to find Keren, he pointed toward her while responding, "See that woman over there, in the purple gown and matching feathered mask?"

"She's quite beautiful. Girlfriend?"

Turning quickly back, he could see her still eyeing Keren. His heart did a little thump as he saw what he presumed was a hint of jealousy in her eyes. Shaking his head slightly, he said, "Yes, she is beautiful, but no, we're just good friends. She works at the museum, so I begged her to let me be her 'plus one'."

"Begged?" Looking at him with, she continued, "Somehow I don't see you as the begging type, Dimitri."

Her sultry tone stirred hunger within him that brought a slight heat to his skin. For this woman, I would, he thought, before quickly admonishing the thought. Giving her his best panty-dropping smile, he replied, "Well, if something is really worth it, then I'm all for a little pleading." Seeing her eyes darken slightly, he smiled. "Besides, while I'm not particularly fascinated with a beautiful, but overly priced, piece of jewelry, being here does give me an opportunity to view some of the other historical pieces without the crowds." As the small orchestra began to play, Dimitri extended his arm, "Would you care to dance, Catharine?"

Smiling, she slipped her arm through his as he led them to the small dance floor. As she placed her hand on his shoulder, he slid his down to her waist. With his other hand, he clasped hers lightly before pulling her slowly across the floor. Once again, he felt that radiating warmth flow from her skin through his, tugging at him in some primal way. While he recognized she was a beautiful woman, she wasn't someone to whom he would typically be attracted. However, he couldn't deny the intense attraction he felt toward her, as he glided around the floor, pulling her imperceptibly closer with each step. With their bodies nearly molded to one another, Dimitri could feel the rapid beating of her heart against his chest. He could hear her small, sharp intake of breath as his hand moved to her lower back, well below her waist. Dimitri was surprised by the relief he felt as he realized he wasn't the only one feeling the attraction.

As the song came to an end and the attendees politely applauded, Dimitri reluctantly stepped back, release Catharine from the embrace. "Thank you for the dance," he said, trying to hide the turmoil in his voice.

He smiled on the inside as he saw her struggle to compose herself as well before she replied, "You're quite welcome. You're an excellent dancer, Dimitri."

"Excuse me," Ivan said, slipping up to the couple. "I hate to intrude, but I really must speak to you."

Dimitri turned to glare at his friend and teammate. Great, now I'll have to come up with another cover, he thought. Seeing the expression of curiosity on Catharine's face, Dimitri said, "Ivan, this is Catharine. Catharine, this is my friend Ivan. He works with Keren."

Dimitri watched as Ivan raked his eyes over Catharine's supple body. He felt his insides clench as he took in the man's lascivious gaze. Stretching out his hand, Ivan said, "Pleasure to meet you."

Taking his hand, Catharine replied, "You as well." Releasing it quickly, much to Dimitri's pleasure, she turned to him, saying, "I should let you go. It was a pleasure, Dimitri."

Trying to hide his disappointment, Dimitri smiled before taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips. "The pleasure was mine as well, Catharine. I hope we get a chance to talk again later."

Smirking at him, she nodded to Ivan before turning and walking away. Once she was lost in the throng of partygoers, Dimitri turned to Ivan. "This had better be life or death," he growled.

Raising his eyes, Ivan replied, "Chill man. You know I wouldn't have cock-blocked you like that if it weren't critical." Turning to look at where Catharine had disappeared, Ivan said, "Man that was one sweet piece. Please tell me you got her number?"

The overwhelming and sudden flood of rage which filled him took Dimitri by surprise. Ivan was a typical man-whore, and Dimitri was used to his vulgar nature. However, for some inexplicable reason, having it directed toward Catharine set off some primal protective instinct within him. What the fuck, man. Get it together, he chastised to himself. "No, I didn't. Need I remind you we're on a mission here? We need to focus." I need to focus, he reminded himself. "What did you need?" he asked the man.

"Alberta may have gotten a hit of the cameras. There's someone here who might be our frisky feline."

Raising his eyebrow, Dimitri grabbed Ivan's arm. "Show me."

Ivan walked toward the exit with Dimitri following quickly behind. They made their way to the security office where Alberta was set up. Stepping through the door, he leaned down behind her chair as he waited for her to bring up the image. It was a young man, in his mid-to-late twenties. He had copper-colored hair and bright blue eyes. Moving his eyes over to the accompanying information, he saw a rap sheet for one Matthew Brown. Scanning the data, he inhaled sharply as he read over the list of assorted crimes, ranging from petty theft to grand larceny. His last arrest had been right before the string of robberies attributed to Le Chat.

Looking up at Ivan, he said, "This could be our guy. Do we have eyes on him now?"

Albert spoke up, "We did, but we lost sight of him right before I pulled up his file."

"Find him," Dimitri ground out while he stood and moved to the door.

"Where are you going?" Ivan asked.

"Back to the party. See if I can find our mystery man," he said, nodding at the image on the screen.

Exiting the office, he made his way back toward the party. As he was walking past an empty wing, he glanced inside. His breath caught as he took in the sight of Catharine standing in front of The Mona Lisa, a look of both awe and peace surrounding her. Turning, he quietly walked up behind her lest he interrupt her serene state. He was shocked, therefore, when she softly said, "Isn't she magnificent?"

Keeping his eyes glued to Catharine's body, his voice dropping an octave, "Yes, she certainly is."

Tilting up her head, Catharine turned to look back at Dimitri, her expression heated; her eyes a shade darker. Seeing something in his own eyes, she turned, her head tilting back. Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he slowly raked his fingers up her arms, relishing in the pimpled flesh he left in his wake. His body thrummed as his gaze drifted down to her ruby lips which had parted slightly. Reaching her shoulders, he moved his hands to her face, cupping her jaw between them. Gently caressing it with his thumbs, his eyes were still focused on her lips. "You have the most beautiful lips." Leaning down closer, their breaths mingling, he said softly, "Will you let me taste them?" Moving his eyes up to her quickly, he smiled slightly as he saw the smallest of nods. Closing the distance, he stilled the shiver that ran through him as his lips lightly brushed against hers. So soft, he thought, groaning. He came undone when they're tongues reached out at the same time – a gentle caress. With urgency, he moved a hand around to cup her neck as his other hand slid to her waist, pulling her tightly against him. Their lips moved in perfect harmony, the effect both intoxicating and erotic.

His hand was moving sensually up her side, sending slight shivers through her body. Just as thumb brushed across the top of one breast, the voice in his ear stilled his movement. "Dimitri," Keren whispered. Pulling back with a jolt, he dropped his hands, stepping back slightly. It took all his restraint to not pull Catharine back into his arms as he took in her aroused expression, along with her plump, well-kissed lips. They were still slightly open as she panted while pushing her hair off her face.

"Did you say something?" she asked breathlessly.

His eyes widened as he realized she must have heard Keren through the coms. Running his hand through his hair, he covered, replying, "Yes. I was just going to say we should probably get back. I'm sure my friends are looking for me. Plus, I'm certain you need to get back to get material for your article."

"Yes, of course," she said, her demeanor reverting back to that of polite acquaintance. "I won't keep you."

As he watched her walk away quickly back to the party, he bit his tongue to prevent himself from calling out after her. He knew the team would hear him, and he had already given them plenty of ammunition for later. Sighing, he straightened up his tuxedo and hair before following Catharine's path back to the gala.

* * *

Keren watched as Dimitri re-entered the room. Based on his expression, she knew he was worried about what her, and the team, might have to say about what they had overheard.

"Later," was all Dimitri said as he approached.

He seemed relieved as she gave him a brief nod. Slipping quickly back into investigator mode, he queried, "Any sign of Brown?"

"Not yet. Alberta is reviewing the footage from the last point he was spotted. Hopefully, she can track his movements."

"Good. Any luck with any of the other guests?" Dimitri asked.

"I haven't picked up on anything." Pausing briefly, Keren continued, "But I still have quite a few people to talk to." Taking his silence as his signal to get back to work, Keren walked away, heading toward the bar. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she saw the woman Dimitri had been dancing with earlier. She must have been the woman he had been apparently kissing just a short time ago. Sliding up next to her, Keren waved the bartender over. "Champagne, please," she said. She felt the other woman's eyes discretely surveying her. Turning toward her she reached out her hand, "I'm Keren. You must be Catharine."

Smiling slightly, the woman took her hand briefly before dropping it back to her side. "I am. You're Dimitri's friend."

Smiling in return, Keren replied, "That would be me. He tells me you're a writer for a fashion magazine. Must be fascinating work."

Shrugging her shoulders, she said, "If writing about high-end fashion that costs ridiculous amounts of money for people who have no clue about the real world is considered fascinating, then sure."

Keren studied the woman, looking for any signs of deception. Finding none, she continued the inquisition. "So, where are you from originally? I can't quite place your accent."

"I've moved around quite a bit. My mother's job kept us on the move," she replied. "I can't quite place yours. If I were to guess, I would say you're from Israel?"

Raising her eyebrow, Keren responded, "I'm impressed. You must have a good ear."

"Like I said, I moved around a bit. My mother's job provided me with the opportunity to be exposed to many different cultures."

"How exciting! What sort of work did she do?"

"She worked for the government."

Smiling, Keren replied, "My father also works for the government. So, you said 'worked,' as in past tense. What does she do now?"

She saw the woman's facade falter briefly, as a look of pain and anger flashed in her features. "She passed away a few years ago."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, my dear. That must have been hard for your family."

She saw the polite smile reappear; the kind of smile that didn't reach the eyes. "It's just me. I never knew my father, and I am an only child." Taking a sip of her drink, Catharine tilted her glass toward Keren. "So, how does someone originally from Israel come to work at The Louvre?" she asked.

Sensing the inquisition was over, Keren replied, "Ah, well, I came to Paris several years ago, after having worked at the Israeli Museum. My former boss found out about a position here and recommended me for the job." Looking around the room, she turned back to Catharine and said, "The rest is history." The other woman chuckled, catching on to her little pun. The silence hung thick as both women sipped at their drinks. Turning back to Catharine, Keren said, "So, I'm a pretty straightforward type person, so let's just cut to the chase, shall we?" She saw the other woman's eyes widen slightly before nodding. "Good. Dimitri is a good friend. He's one of my best friends actually. He's one of the best men I know." Pausing she looked over to where he stood, his eyes moving over to the two women before returning back to his conversation. Looking back to Catharine, she continued, "But, like many of us, he carries his share of baggage."

The other woman nodded, "Good to know. However, you should understand that we just met. It's not like we'll ever see each other after tonight. You have no need to worry about him, where I'm concerned."

Tossing back the rest of the champagne, Keren smiled before moving to walk off. Turning back slightly, she said, "It's not him I'm worried about."

* * *

Dimitri watched as Keren walked back over to Dimitri, his gaze drifting to the woman she had just left at the bar. His eyes flitted back to her as she stood next to him. "Anything I should know?"

She glanced discreetly back toward Catharine before whispering, "There's something there, but I can't be certain it's related to our thief. I didn't catch her in any lies, but she's definitely hiding something."

Sweeping his eyes to the bar, he found she was no longer there. Looking back at Keren, he said, "Alberta, find out anything you can about the woman Keren was talking to. Her first name is Catharine." He kicked himself, internally, for not getting her last name. He was sure, however, that Alberta would be able to discern all they needed to find out more about the beautiful, mystery woman.

"Will do," came the older woman's voice over his earpiece.

The team continued to mix and mingle with the guests for the rest of the night. Occasionally, Dimitri would find his eye roaming over the crowd, looking for her. When he'd see her, he'd often find himself transfixed. He could feel her eyes on him at times, as well. Frustration welled within him; both from the distraction she presented, but also from the intense, overwhelming pull to take her in his arms again. Looking down at his watch, he realized the gala was coming to an end soon. Looking around one last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, he was disappointed when he found no sign. Thinking she must have left already, he headed toward the security offices, desperate to see if Alberta had found out more about the mysterious woman. But only for the purpose of this mission, he thought to himself.

"Anything on the woman?" he barked, as he closed the door behind him.

"Not much. According to the guest registry, her full name is Catharine Hirsiz. She currently lives in Arlington, Virginia where she works for the publication, La Crème. She's been a writer on staff with the magazine for two years. Before that she was a researcher, before interning. She graduated from Hamilton College with a degree in Creative Writing, and a minor," she paused, smirking before continuing, "in World Politics."

Dimitri raised his eyebrow. That was definitely not the usual combination. Filing it away just in case, he chose, however, to think it related more to her upbringing. "What else?"

"She moved around a lot, but I can't seem to find anything on her mother. The only thing I can find is that she died a few years ago. I can't find a work history or a cause or location of her death."

Dimitri's eyebrows furrowed deeply. His gut churned as he felt that familiar feeling well within him. There was only one reason information like that would be hard to come by. Catharine's mother must have been in intelligence. Catharine had said her mother had worked for the government. He wondered if she knew exactly the kind of work her mother did.

"Keep digging. I want to know more about her mother. Find out where Ms. Hirsiz is staying, as well. Just in case we need to follow up with any more questions." Shooting her eyes to him quickly, she turned back to the screen. Noting the barely hidden incredulity, he asked, "Have something to say, Agent Petrov"?

Sighing, she stopped typing before turning to look into his face. Smiling warmly, she said, "I heard everything, you know that. This woman is more than just part of this mission." She rested her hand on his forearm, patting it gently. Turning back to the keyboard, she resumed her searches. "I'll get you everything I can. When I have anything, I'll send it to you immediately."

Straightening his suit jacket, Dimitri strode out of the office, looking down the hall as guests filed by toward the exits. Scanning the groups, he looked for the almond-skinned woman in the long, red dress. He pushed down the frustration that ebbed and flowed through him as he failed to spot her among the other guests.

The team reconvened as the last guest and employee made their way out of the museum. Running over the protocols again, they changed into more casual attire before taking their places. Dimitri would be watching from the security room with Alberta. Ivan, Eddie, and Mikhail would be patrolling the inside, along with the security guards. Keren would be patrolling the outside exits nearest the wing. Looking at his watch, he saw it was nearly midnight. The museum would be closed all day, but the staff that worked would still be in sometime the next morning. That left the thief a six to eight-hour window. Sipping his coffee, he sat next to Alberta, watching the screens closely.

"You're certain they'll come for the broach tonight?" Alberta asked, her eyes never leaving the screens.

"It would fit their modus operandi. Le Chat lacks patience, in a sense. They're very detailed oriented, planning everything down to the smallest detail. However, there's a constant need and push that drives them." Pausing, he continued, "I think there's more going on here than just some random jewel thief. They're driven by something more; something darker. This isn't about material wealth or the adrenaline rush. I can feel it."

Glancing at him briefly, Alberta responded, "Well, your instincts have yet to fail us. What do you suppose we do to try and figure out their real motive?"

"Keren," Dimitri said.

"Here," she replied through the ear price.

"Get to the van. I want you to look at all the heists we know Le Chat has committed. Follow the item and see if we can trace where it ended up. Then I want you to cross reference the buyers. If we can identify them, maybe we can see if there are any commonalities."

"Roger. What about the external patrol."

"The French Army can handle it. I don't plan on letting this damn feline out of the building."


	5. Chapter 5: The Hunter is Hunted

**Thanks, everyone for the lovely reviews and amusing comments! Y'all make my day. Thanks again to Tiffany and Vinaa for giving these a look-see.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns all things VA related.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: The Hunter is Hunted**

Rose slipped away from the gathering, making her way quietly down the hall, carefully staying out of the cameras' views. Glancing down the corridor, she slipped into the unlocked storage room. Pulling her bag from the hiding place, Rose quickly removed her disguise and clothes before sliding on the long-sleeved, black catsuit. Slipping her feet into the black, Evolve climbing shoes, she quickly tied and pinned up her long hair. Pulling the ski mask over her head, Rose left her face exposed. She stepped into the black harness and secured it around her waist. Shoving her equipment into a small backpack, she placed the other bag with everything else back into the hiding place. Finally, Rose pulled on the black gloves. Abe's contact within the museum would dispose of it later. Placing her arms through the straps, she secured the pack before hoisting herself up the nearby metal shelving. Quietly removing the screws, she lowered the ventilation shaft cover. Climbing higher, she pulled herself inside before turning back and pulling the cover back into place. Laying the screws beside her, she secured the vent with a small piece of wire.

Stealthily, she crept through the tight, metal corridor. She had memorized the blueprints and knew which shafts led to the room that housed the gems. Make a few twists and turns, she finally found herself approximately four meters above the floor. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was nearly midnight. The room was empty, save for the occasional security guards. She stifled a laugh as she saw Ivan walk below her, oblivious to her presence.

Seeing Ivan brought up thoughts of another man; tall, with the dark, silken hair and mesmerizing eyes. His voice had floated over her like satin, surrounding her in a warm cocoon. His slight Russian accent had sent pangs of desire coursing through her. So entranced by him, she shuddered slightly remembering how she had felt herself slipping ever so slightly from her cover. She had wanted to be just Rose with him in those moments.

When his hand had wrapped around her own during their introduction, Rose had stifled a gasp, as she felt the heat and electricity surge through her skin. When he had held out his arm for her, asking her to dance, she had hesitated ever so briefly. However, the want for this man had overridden every concern. As her body had molded against his, as he moved them across the dance floor, she had nearly faltered in her movements. Being there, at that moment, she had felt something she had never experienced – a sense of belonging.

Her gloved fingers ran across her lips lightly as she replayed the kiss they had shared. Every contact had been filled with heat and current. When Dimitri's lips had brushed lightly across hers, it had felt as if every nerve ending in her body had come to life. As his tongue had languidly caressed hers, the world had seemed to drop from beneath her feet. It was only sheer will that kept her from collapsing against him. She had known without a doubt that if Keren hadn't interrupted them through his comms, she would have happily given herself to him right there in front of the bemused grin of Mona Lisa.

Truth be told, she had been ecstatic that his fellow agent had intruded. She had cursed herself profusely when she had left him to go back to the party. She had a job – a duty. No man, no matter how drop-dead gorgeous he was, could deviate her from her mission. However, she knew, based on how her insides clenched at the mere thought of his touch and kiss, she was far from shaking her need of Agent Belikov. She had been given a taste of what it would be like, and she wasn't sure she could escape the pull.

Her thoughts quickly drifted to another train of thought as she realized that as far as he was concerned, she was a light brown haired, green-eyed woman from a fashion magazine. She couldn't help wonder if he would even be attracted to the real woman beneath the deceit. Besides, she was confident that their paths would never cross again. She would make certain. He was too smart not to see through any further disguises. He might not recognize Rose, but he would inevitably figure out the woman he knew as Catharine lie beneath.

With all these thoughts and feelings, her next were ones of regret. If she succeeded in her mission, she would once again outmaneuver the man. He would undoubtedly face censure and probable ridicule from the intelligence community should she succeed. The first time, with the Dresden Green, she hadn't known him. She had actually taken amusement in his failure. Feeling the shame course through her now, she realized that even if they were to ever meet again, there would be no forgiveness or acceptance. She knew that if the roles were reversed, her heart would forever be hardened against him. Such was the turmoil within her that she had to steel herself from striking out against the metal walls with her fist.

Movement pulled her from her thoughts as she saw the other two agents patrolling the room. She recognized Agents Eddie Castile and Mikhail Tanner. Their dossiers had been impressive as well. All those on Dimitri's team were highly qualified and exceptional agents. Pulling off this job would definitely be the real test of her and her team's abilities.

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was nearing one in the morning. Knowing she would be waiting for a couple of more hours, she decided to rest. Setting the alarm on her watch for four thirty, she made sure it would be on vibrate before laying her head against her arms. Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep, hoping they would be devoid of any dreams of a specific Interpol agent.

* * *

As the watch vibrated quietly against her skin, Rose lifted her head gently. Peering down through the slats of the vent cover, she saw the room was empty. Reaching back, Rose pulled her phone from her pocket. Typing a quick text to Mia, she waited. A few moments later the screen lit up with a response. Rose grinned as Mia reported that the security cameras would begin a continuous loop in two minutes. After that, she would set off an alarm in a nearby wing, hopefully distracting the guards and agents.

Slipping the phone back into her pocket, she set the watch for three minutes. While she waited, she gingerly removed two of the screws from the cover of the shaft, pocketing the loose screws. The second she heard the blaring alarms sounding, she dropped it down and slid out the narrow opening, dropping silently to the floor below. Crouching, she made her way to the glass case, all the time, her eyes surveyed the entrance to the room. Seeing no one rushing by or into the room, she deftly removed the panel on the side of the case, locating the wires connecting the alarm and motion sensors. Once they were disabled, she gently removed the glass cover, exposing the treasure. Pausing for a brief second, she quickly plucked the broach from the stand. Waiting for additional alarms to sound, she breathed a heavy sigh when she heard nothing new. Placing the jewel into her backpack, she replaced the glass before making her way slowly toward the exit.

Scanning the corridor that ran perpendicular to the room, she saw no one. Inching out, she crept down the hall toward the maintenance room. Opening the unlocked door, she slipped through and closed it quietly behind her. Walking rapidly toward the far wall, she saw the large screen covering the hole in the wall was slightly loosened. Pulling it away slowly, she eased herself out and onto the grounds of the museum. Hugging the wall tightly, trying to keep to the shadows. The streets were empty, as most of the city still slumbered.

She pulled the ski mask from her head, running her hand through her hair, before making her way across the street toward the river and the waiting boat. A voice, thick with an Irish accent chilled her to her core, making her still. "I told you I'd be seeing you again, lass."

Turning slightly, she saw Mr. S. standing a few feet from her, his Glock 30S pointed at her heart. Not much shocked Rose, but seeing him standing there shook her to her core. How in the hell did he find me, she wondered. "Do I know you?" she asked, trying her damnedest to keep the tremor from her voice.

The man chuckled, bringing chills to Rose's skin. "You really didn't think we couldn't find you, did you? He's been aware of you for a very long time. Although it wasn't until the London job that he put it all together." Pausing he said, "It's a shame really. He was hoping you might be convinced to switch sides; to see the value of his mission. Too bad it's not going to work out that way. All he'll know is that you resisted, and I had to put a bullet into the tight, pretty body."

Rose's eyes flitted toward the boat, where her only weapons lay. She cursed herself internally for not arranging to have them waiting outside the museum itself. She could see his finger pulling back on the trigger when a shout rang out from behind her, almost sending her to her knees in both fear and happiness. "Interpol! Put your hands in the air!" Whipping her head around, she saw Dimitri running toward her, his own gun raised. Panic surged through her as she realized he was aiming the gun at her, completely unaware of the danger the other man presented them both.

Turning her head to look back at Mr. S., her eye widened as she saw him shift his aim from her to Dimitri. "Dimitri, get down!" she yelled as she ran toward him. Just as the words left her mouth, she heard the shot and watched in abject horror as Dimitri faltered before falling to the ground. Racing to his side, she snatched up his gun and rolled onto her back. Quickly finding her target, who was descending upon her rapidly, Rose pulled the trigger. She watched with both relief and pleasure as the man staggered and then fell to his knees in the street.

Getting up quickly, she made her way toward the man, kicking his gun away as she grew closer. Sill holding Dimitri's weapon, she trained it on the man, who now lay motionless. Kicking him with her foot, she watched his chest, looking for any signs of life. Seeing nothing, she nudged his body over, finding his lifeless eyes staring back at her, a rivulet of blood flowing from the wound between his eyes. Turning away, she raced over to Dimitri's prone form. Turning him over gently, she searched his body for the gunshot wound. She soon found it; blood seeping from the open hole above his left pectoral muscle.

Rose signed with relief. She was almost sure that no vital organs had been hit. Based on the minimal amount of blood flowing from it, Rose also was hopeful the hitman had missed an artery. Fishing his phone from his pocket, she quickly scrolled through the contacts, thankful it was unlocked. Finding Keren's name, she pressed send.

"Dimitri? Where the hell did you go?" the woman's voice shouted.

"Quai François Mitterrand. He's been shot. Hurry," she said before hanging up.

Tossing the phone on the ground beside him, she gently stroked his face before placing a quick kiss to his lips. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Getting to her feet, she ran toward the river and jumped down into the waiting Aquariva Super speedboat. Unraveling the spring line from the post, she turned the key, exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Maneuvering out into the middle of the river, she opened the throttle, letting the wind whip at her hair. Refusing to look back, she continued down the river, making her way east.

Reaching the dock at Charenton-le-Pont, Île-de-France, across from the Crédit Foncier de France, she cut the engine before tying up the boat. Grabbing her other bag with her weapons and a change of clothes, she hauled herself up the ladder to the sidewalk. The large man took her bags, sliding into the trunk as she slipped into the back seat. Getting back into the car, the man pulled out into traffic before turning onto the freeway.

Yanking off her gloves, Rose raked her hands roughly through her hair. Damn it! If Dimitri didn't live, she would never forgive herself. He was just one more regret she had accumulated in her quest. One more tragic consequence.

Pulling out her phone, she sent a quick text to Adrian, informing him she had acquired the broach was on her way to the plane. Sliding the phone into her backpack, she rested her head against the seat. Closing her eyes, she found herself assaulted by a myriad of images; Dimitri smiling at her, holding her close while they danced, the kiss they had shared. It was the picture of him crumpling to the ground that had her eyes shoot open. Feeling the moisture gathering there, she fought to retain control of her emotions. Now was not the time to lose it, she thought.

* * *

They arrived at the location a little while later. Boarding quickly, Rose sank into the soft, leather seat. As she waited for the plane to depart, she heard the tell-tale ring. Pulling her phone out, she answered it, weariness coating her words. "What?"

"Are you okay, little cat?"

Sighing, she replied, "I'm fine, Adrian. When and where's the drop happening?"

There was a brief pause before he responded, "Abe wants to hold off. He wants you to head home."

Rose sat up, her eyes widening. In all her time working for Abe, he had never put off a sale. "Why?" she ground out.

"He heard about Agent Belikov. He's worried. The word is that the gunman was after you."

Rose's blood raced as she took in his words. "How does he know?"

She heard Adrian sigh heavily again. "His contact in Interpol said Dimitri came to in the ambulance. He told his partners what happened."

The adrenaline spiked in her, fueling rage and fury she felt compelled to expel. Given her current situation, she knew she would have to contain it until she landed. Gripping the phone tightly, she said, "He's okay then?"

"Yeah, he's going to be fine. Might not be hunting rogue cats for a while, but he'll live."

Exhaling, Rose asked, "What about the other guy. Adrian, that asshole was the one I met with in London. How the hell did he find me or even know where to look?"

"We don't know. Abe thinks the head of The Front might have someone inside Interpol as well. They're still trying to find out who he is. For now, Abe wants you back in the States. He thinks you'll be safer there for now. He wants you to put the item in a safe deposit box for the time being."

Sighing, Rose responded, "Fine. You'll contact me when he's ready for the trade?"

"Of course." Pausing again, Adrian said, "Lilly, are you sure you're okay?"

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, as she struggled to find the words to assure him. She was far from okay. So many differing emotions ripped through her like a cyclone. Gritting her teeth, she said, "I'm fine, Adrian. Nothing a little rest and relaxation won't cure."

"Okay, I'll let it go. Call me if you need anything," he said, emphasizing the last word.

"I will, Adrian. Goodbye."

Hanging up without waiting for an answer, she turned off the phone before sliding it back into the backpack. As the plane hurtled down the runway, she leaned back, letting sleep overtake her.

* * *

Nearly eight hours later, the Gulfstream landed at National Airport, just outside Washington, D.C. Rose wearily disembarked and made her way to the waiting sedan. A small smile played on her lips as she considered how thoughtful Abe could be at times. Sliding into the back, she waited for her luggage to be loaded and the driver to pull onto the road.

Making their way toward Arlington, they eventually pulled up in front of her building. Stepping out of the car, she waited for the driver to retrieve her bags. Shouldering them, she nodded before turning and walking into the lobby. Looking back out the glass, she waited patiently for the driver to pull away. Once he was out of sight, she moved to the elevator, hitting the down button. Stepping through the doors, she rode it down to the garage level. Exiting, she made her way to the black Dodge Charger. Pulling out her keys from the backpack, she slipped her bags into the back seat before sliding behind the wheel.

She felt some tension ease from her bones as she felt the large motor roar to life. Backing out of the space, she eased out of the garage before turning onto to Arlington Boulevard. Driving northeast, she made her way onto the GW Parkway toward McLean. Exiting onto Dolly Madison Boulevard, she made the short distance to the McLean House condominiums. Pulling into a parking spot, she retrieved her bags before walking toward her building. Taking the elevator to the eighth floor. Walking down the hall, she slipped her key into the lock, swinging the door open. Closing it behind her, she slipped her shoes off in the entryway. Turning left, she walked down the hallway to the master bedroom. Dropping her bags on the floor, she made her way to the en-suite, shedding her clothing along the way.

Turning on the shower, she stepped inside, letting the hot water cascade over her tired, aching body. Lathering up the washcloth, she scrubbed at her skin, trying desperately to wash away her sins. As the memories of the last 24 hours flood through her, she sank against the cold, wet wall, sliding down until her knees were pulled against her chest. Deep, guttural sobs broke around her as she let the events wash away, along with the soap.

Once she had found her release, she stood up and washed her hair in the now tepid water. Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel each around her head and body before padding back into the bedroom. Opening the bureau, she pulled out underwear before snagging a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. Dressing, she towel dried her hair before running a comb through the tangles. Slipping her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers, she walked back to the opposite side of the condo. Past the kitchen was her office. Powering up her computer, she pulled her cell phone out from the side drawer of her desk. Turning it on, she waited a minute before she flipped through her contacts. Finding the number she was looking for, she hit the send button.

"Rose?" the woman's soft voice said.

"Hey, Liss," she said quietly.

"Are you okay? You sound tired."

Sighing heavily, Rose responded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a long couple of weeks. How are you guys?"

"We're good. Christian is due back from his assignment tonight. Are you back home for a while, or do you have to head out again?"

"I'll be here for a bit, but might have to head out at some point."

"Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow night? We'd both love to see you."

Rose chuckled, unsure of her best friend's assertion. She and Christian had a love-hate relationship, to say the least. To say he missed her would probably be a gross overstatement. "I would love to see you too, Liss. What time should I be there?"

"Whenever you want. I assume you have to check in at the office tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I should be there for a few hours. I'll come by after. Need me to bring anything?"

"Just your winning personality and sparkling demeanor," she said, teasingly.

Rose snorted, "Well then, you'll be waiting an awfully long time."

"Bye Rose. See you tomorrow night."

"Goodbye Liss," she said before hanging up.

Glancing at the clock on her computer, she realized she hadn't eaten anything since the morning before. Picking up her phone, she pulled out her take-out menus from the desk. Finding her favorite pizza place, she placed her order. While she waited, she checked her email over the encrypted server. There were several general emails from various departments. Clicking on the one from Tasha, she skimmed over the contents. It was a simple message letting Rose know they would be meeting in her office tomorrow morning. Rose just shook her head, realizing that Tasha would undoubtedly already know she was back home.

Answering the door when the delivery man arrived, Rose paid for the pizza. Closing the door, she laid the box on the kitchen counter. Pulling out a plate, she put several slices on top before grabbing a beer from the nearly empty fridge. Taking both items into the living room, she sat on the sofa and turned on the television. Pursuing her DVD collection, she pulled her favorite movie out and placed it in the player. Sitting back, she let the battle play out on the screen between Bruce Willis and the evil Mr. Zorg while she scarfed down the pizza and beer. As she felt the exhaustion setting in, she turned off the movie just as Leloo was about to request her "multi-pass".

Taking her plate into the kitchen, she tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin before walking back into her office. Sitting at the computer, she pulled up the encrypted server once again. Logging in, she did a search for Dimitri, anxious for any updates. The only piece of information she could find was the initial report of the robbery, shooting and his subsequent transport to the hospital.

Sighing, she logged off before shutting down the computer. Taking both her phones to her bedroom, she pulled the sheets back and slid beneath. Pulling up the comforter, she let herself drift off to sleep.

* * *

"Dimitri, get down!" she screamed, as she watched in horror as the assassin aimed his weapon. Her feet were rooted in place. No matter how much she tried to run toward him, she couldn't seem to move. Turning back to him, she saw the bullet slam into his body as he crumpled to the ground. Finally able to move, she ran to him, crying his name over and over. Falling to her knees next to his prone body, she turned him over, desperate for him to be okay. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw the large hole nestled between his brows; his cold, lifeless eyes staring up at her. "No!" she screamed, as she held his face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Looking into his eyes, she suddenly flew back from him as he blinked. Looking at her, his voice dark and venomous, he said, "This is your fault. I'm dead because of you."

Rose shot up in bed, sweat pouring off her as she panted heavily. Looking wildly around the room, she centered herself as she realized she was in her condo. She was safe, and so was Dimitri. It had all been a horrible nightmare. Looking at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was nearly four in the morning.

Sighing wearily, she threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. Putting on her slippers, she walked into the bathroom. Flipping on the light, she was startled by her appearance. Her eyes had dark circles under them, while her skin had a sickly pallor. Splashing cold water onto her face, she dried it off with the hand towel before turning and walking back through the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen. Flipping on the light, she pulled out the coffee from the freezer. Dumping a scoopful into the machine, she poured water into the reservoir before placing the pot back underneath. Turning it on, she shuffled back to the bedroom. Unpacking her bags, she threw her dirty clothes into the nearby laundry basket. Her hand froze as she pulled out the now bloody gloves. Gripping them tightly, she fought the wave of nausea that struggled to overtake her.

Walking into the bathroom, she pulled out a garbage bag and shoved the gloves and the catsuit inside. Tying a knot in the top, she dropped it on top of the laundry. Carrying the basket out, she quickly put on a load of laundry as she waited for her coffee. She would take the bag of bloodied clothes with her to the office later this morning to have them disposed of, discreetly. Once the coffee was made, she poured herself a large cup before moving into the office.

Powering up her computer once again, she logged in once it was ready. Reading through various security bulletins, she found one pertaining to her current assignment. It was an inter-agency memo from Interpol. They had issued a shoot-to-kill order for Le Chat. Great, she thought. Now I've got a government agency gunning for me as well. Apparently, they believed that she was involved in the attempted murder of one of their agents. Rose rolled her eyes. She would definitely have to talk to Tasha about this at their meeting. It was one thing to have them trying to capture her; it was an entirely different if they were going to shoot and ask questions later. Killing an undercover government agent would do inter-agency cooperation no favors.

Finishing up with her correspondence, she powered down the computer once again and walked back to her bedroom. Rifling through the drawers of her bureau, she pulled out her sports bra, socks and running shorts. Getting dressed, she pulled her hair up into a high ponytail before slipping on her running shoes. Grabbing her music player and headphones, she left the apartment and ran down the eight flights of stairs. Walking to the fitness room, she was relieved to find she was alone.

Stepping on to the closest treadmill, she inserted the earbuds before turning on the music. Letting the beat resonate through her ears, she started at a slow pace, warming up her tired muscles. Slowly she began to increase her speed until her feet were pounding against the whirling belt. Finally, she was able to release all the built-up tension and adrenaline that had accumulated over the last twenty-four hours.

After running for about an hour, she slowed her pace and moved on to the weight machine. Working through her usual routine, she ended her work out an hour later with stretches to loosen her overtaxed muscles. Looking at the clock in the room, she saw it nearing seven o'clock. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she removed the headset, letting it dangle around her neck. Turning off the iPod, she took the elevator back to her place. Tossing the music player and earbuds on the small table in the entryway, she grabbed some cash from her wallet. Walking back out, she locked the door before heading back downstairs.

Jogging across the street, she walked into the deli, the aroma of freshly baked bread caressing her senses. Inhaling deeply, she walked up to the counter. Ordering a bacon breakfast burrito and a bottle of water, she guzzled the refreshing beverage while she waited for her breakfast. Paying the cashier, she took the bag from the young man. She smirked as she saw his eyes roaming over her nearly naked body. She had forgotten she was still dressed in her workout clothes.

Walking across the street, she headed back up to her condo, already taking a large bite from the bacon-infused goodness. Unlocking the door after the short elevator ride, she slipped off her shoes, tossing her keys onto the small nearby table. Finishing the burrito and water quickly, she tossed the paper wrapper in the trash before throwing the bottle into her recycling bin.

Walking to the bedroom, she started to undress. As she began to pull the sports bra over her head, her eyes caught the blinking light on the phone she used as Lilly. Striding over, she flipped on the screen, seeing she had missed a call from Abe. Cursing herself for forgetting to take her phones with her, she hit the send button immediately.

"Where the hell have you been?" he barked as soon as he answered.

She had heard Abe angry before, but the ire in his voice now was utterly foreign. Trying to control her breathing, she said, "I was working out. I forgot my phone." Silence filled the air for several minutes, but she could hear his heavy, labored breathing. Her eyebrows raised as she realized how upset he had truly been. "Is everything okay, old man?" she asked gently.

Sighing, he replied, "It is now." Chuckling softly, he continued, "Don't ever scare me like that again. Okay, kid?"

Laughing softly, she responded, "Sure. Sorry about that. Now, were you calling for a reason, or just to check up on me?"

"Both, actually." Pausing for a few seconds, he exhaled. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine. Was a little tired, but I didn't get much sleep on the flight back." She knew his question was delving more into her emotional state, but she wasn't willing to expose herself like that to the man.

Snorting, he replied, "Well hopefully you can catch up on that while you're home. Listen, Lilly, even though you're stateside now, don't let your guard down. I've just learned that Interpol has a kill directive out for Le Chat. Not only do you have The Front breathing down your neck, but now you've got to watch out for law enforcement as well."

Rose did her best to sound shocked as she replied, "Wow! I mean I know I've put a serious crimp in their reputations, what with stealing two pretty expensive pieces of jewelry out from under their noses, but isn't this overkill?"

"I wish that were the reason. The authorities think Le Chat is responsible for getting Agent Belikov shot. They're still trying to identify the sheik's man, so they're going with the assumption that the two of you worked together."

Well, this was just getting better and better, she thought, worrying her lip between her teeth. "How is Agent Belikov, anyway?" Trying to mask her personal interest, she followed up quickly, "I wouldn't want to be accused of murder as well."

Chuckling lightly, Abe replied, "He'll be fine. He's apparently more pissed off about being pulled from the Le Chat investigation than he is from being shot. That young man has always had a stubborn streak."

Rose's guilt grew her gut clenching at the thought of him losing his reputation due to her. Refocusing her attention, she said, "You ever going to tell me how you know Belikov?"

"Ah Lilly, I think you and I both know that some people have secrets that they just aren't ready to share." The hair on her arms raised as she startled at his words. She knew Abe was well connected and quite astute, but there was no way he could know her real identity. Could he? "Besides, that's a secret only Agent Belikov should reveal. Maybe he'll tell you about it one day."

Rose nearly stopped breathing, stunned into silence by his implication. Regaining some semblance of control, she responded, "I doubt that. If Belikov and I should ever meet, I'm quite certain he would be more prone to putting a bullet in my brain that sharing his deep, dark secrets."

Abe chuckled again, saying, "Well, that's entirely possible, but don't lose hope. Maybe things will work out better than you'd ever hope. Anyway, I need to run. Once I feel it's safe for you to travel, I'll let you know when and where to transfer the broach."

After hanging up with Abe, Rose jumped in the shower. Once done, she threw on her black pants, white button up shirt and boots. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail before brushing her teeth and applying a light application of makeup. Grabbing her phones, purse, and keys, she made her way to the garage. Starting the black beast, she thrilled as the massive engine roared to life. Pulling out of the garage, she made her way down Route 123, she reached the CIA headquarters at Langley a short time later. Pulling up to the building, she made her way to the garage, steeling herself for what lay ahead.


	6. Chapter 6: An Indecent Proposal

**Thank you all who reviewed/favorited/followed. To the guests who I can't respond to directly, thank you as well!**

 **For anyone who hasn't had a chance, please go check out Llaria6's completed story about Sonya and Mikhail. It is indeed an outstanding piece of work. She is able to give us an in-depth look at these two characters and their love story that wasn't covered in the books. Plus, she incorporates many of the other characters and the actual events from the series so perfectly. It really is an ingenious piece of writing. It's called "Undying Love (Sonya and Mikhail's Love Story - Vampire Academy).**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns the other VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: An Indecent Proposal**

Dimitri awoke slowly, pain radiating from his chest and left arm. Opening his eyes slowly, he peered around the low light from above casting shadows on the white, sterile walls. Dimitri could hear the repetitive beeping of the monitors next to the bed he was currently occupying. Realizing he was in the hospital, he winced as he tried to sit up.

"Hey, you need to take it easy," he heard the soft, feminine voice say to his right.

Turning his head, he saw Keren sitting in the chair beside him. Her brow was furrowed, as worry radiated from her eyes. His voice, raw and painful, sounded rough as he asked, "What happened?"

Placing her hand on his forearm, she leaned in. "You were shot. You don't remember?"

Turning his head, he looked up at the ceiling, pulling up the memories. "I remember I was watching the cameras and the alarms went off." Turning to look at her, he said, "I sent you and team to investigate while I searched for the problem. I…I remember noticing there was something off with the feed for the room where the broach was kept. A shadow kept repeating. I ran to the wing and found the cover for the ceiling vent hanging down and the Star was missing." She nodded, waiting for him to continue. Swallowing, trying to coat his dry mouth and throat. "I ran outside and saw a figure sneaking out and into the street. They stopped and were talking to someone. I couldn't see the other person, however. I called out for them to stop."

"Dimitri, do you remember who shot you?"

"There was a woman. I didn't recognize her from the gala. She was wearing all black. Her hair was long and dark. That's all I could make out. She…she yelled at me to get down." His eyes widened, as he stared at Keren. "She knew my name," he whispered.

Keren's eyes widened as well. "What happened next?"

"The woman started running toward me, and then I felt the shot. I guess I fell, but I was still conscious. I heard her cry out, and then I heard another shot. After that, I must have passed out."

He could see Keren's eyes moisten before she responded, "I got a call on my phone. It was from your cell, but it was a woman's voice. She told me you had been shot and where to find you. She hung up before I could get any more information. When we found you a few minutes later, you were lying in the street; your gun lying beside you."

His eyes hardened. He couldn't believe Le Chat had shot him and then had the gall to call for help. This made absolutely no sense. "Why the hell would she shoot me and then get help?"

"Dimitri, I don't think she shot you. We found a man a few feet away from you. He had been shot. Ballistics says it came from your gun."

Dimitri furrowed his brow. How had it come from his weapon? He hadn't had a chance to fire. "That's not possible. I never got off a shot." Realization dawned on him at the same time he saw it flicker across her face as well. "Le Chat killed him?"

"That's our best guess. She managed to get away. A witness says they saw her hop a speedboat, heading east up the Seine."

"So, she got away. Again?" Dimitri ground out.

Keren nodded, her eyes filled with regret and pity. It made him nauseous. "We found the boat a few miles down the river. Security cameras from a business across the street show her getting into a dark sedan, but we couldn't get a plate number. Forensics has run the boat for prints and DNA, but so far nothing. The only thing they found was blood. You're blood."

His ability to be stunned seemed to know no bounds. Had the woman actually tried to help him – to save him? He couldn't wrap his mind around the information, the headache he had woken with surging and pulsing behind his bloodshot eyes. Closing them to block out the light that seemed to egg the pain on, he asked "Did any cameras get a good shot of her? Do we have a better description than mine?"

"No," she whispered. "Apparently she had inside help. A maintenance man, who has since disappeared. We have a bolo out on him, but so far we haven't gotten any hits. Either he hasn't got a record, or, like Le Chat, he wore a disguise."

Dimitri clenched his fists, the action bringing a stabbing pain to his sutured wound. Gasping lightly, he relaxed his hands slowly. "How long?" Silence followed before he asked again. "How long have I been out?"

"About twenty-four hours," she whispered.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" he cursed out.

"Dimitri, please. You need to stay calm. The bullet missed any major organs or arteries, but you were still shot. You need to rest and heal."

"What I need to do is catch this…" He didn't' finish the sentence. It felt odd to call use a derogatory term, now that he knew she had saved his life. She had tried to warn him. He saw that now. Still, it didn't ease his rancor over the fact that she had once again outsmarted him. Inhaling sharply, he exhaled slowly before continuing, "No matter what she did at that moment, she's still a criminal." Turning to Keren, he said, "I want a sketch artist in here as soon as possible. While I might not be able to give them everything, I can get us started with the basics."

"Fine," she huffed. "On one condition."

Glaring at her, he barked out, "What?"

"You need to calm down and get some rest. The doctor said once you woke up, they'd want to keep you for another day, just to make sure the wound was healing well. If you keep pushing yourself, they could force you to stay longer. You and I both know that's not what you need or want."

Sighing heavily, he replied, "Fine. You get them in here, and I'll take the next twenty-four hours to rest and recuperate."

Squeezing his arm, she stood. "I'll call the others and let them know you're awake. They've been beside themselves with worry."

Giving her a weak smile, he took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. "Thanks. Why don't you go home and get some rest. I'll still be here in the morning."

"Did you want me to call anyone? Your family?" she asked, as she gathered her belongings.

Dimitri shook his head. "No, there's no need. I wouldn't want to worry them."

Nodding, she turned to leave. Stopping, she turned around a look of concern on her face. "I'm not sure if I should tell you this. I don't want to cause you any further distress." Rolling his eyes, he waited for her to tell him whatever was on her mind. "The agency has issued a kill-order for Le Chat. She's to be eliminated if she's not able to be safely apprehended."

Dimitri's eyes widened once again. "That makes no sense! She didn't shoot me!"

Keren nodded in agreement. "I know, and I agree. But, this is coming from the top. They feel the situation has escalated, plus, since they can't yet confirm the identity of the shooter, they can't be assured the two weren't working together."

Shaking his head slightly, the pain in his head preventing harsher movement, he said, "Then we need to find out who that guy was. I won't have her death on my conscious. She may be a thief, but she's not a killer."

"We're working on it. His prints aren't in any database, and facial recognition is coming up short. He wasn't carrying any identification. We're waiting on the DNA results."

"Fine. See what you can do to speed up the results. Le Chat has a target on her back and might not even know it."

Nodding again, she wished him goodnight before slipping out the door. A few minutes later a nurse came in, carrying a tray with a syringe, as well as a cup of pills. "Good evening, Monsieur Belikov. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, except for this hole in my chest and a raging headache."

"Would you like something for the pain?"

He shook his head. He wanted to keep his mind clear. There was too much going on, and he needed to be as close to a hundred percent as possible. "I'm fine. Just a couple of Tylenol should do the trick."

Nodding, the nurse pulled out two tablets, handing them to him, along with a cup of water. Swallowing them, he gave the now empty cup back and lay his head against the pillow. After the nurse took his vitals, she tucked in the sheets and blanket before turning off the overhead light. Walking away, she said, "Please let me know if you need anything. The call button is there on the railing on your right."

"Merci," he said before closing his eyes.

* * *

A little over twenty-four hours later, Dimitri walked out of the hospital and into the waiting taxi. He was headed to the airport, a private plane waiting to whisk him back to Lyon. Ivan had graciously packed up his hotel room and dropped his luggage off at the hospital. Attired in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, he leaned his head back against the seat, letting his thoughts once again drift to the events less than forty-eight hours earlier. Closing his eyes tightly, Dimitri tried to focus on the details. He could see the woman, her back to him as she spoke with the shooter. Her stance had appeared rigid; her posture defensive. Could the man have been after her? Or, was it possible they were partners but were having a parting of the ways?

Putting aside the thought, he instead fixated on the woman's features. He judged her height to be approximately five-feet, seven inches. As if in slow motion, he replayed the moment she had turned to look back at him. It had been dark, but there were street lights nearby. He could make out her long, dark hair. The only part of her exposed was her face and head. Pulling her image up close in his mind, he looked at her features. With just the brief glimpse, he realized now she had been quite beautiful; breathtaking even. There was something familiar about her he couldn't seem to grasp. He knew he had never met her. It was entirely possible he had seen her on any of the numerous blotters they had on the world's most-wanted. However, he quickly dismissed the idea, as he realized that had she been in the system, they would have narrowed her down as a suspect long ago. Like the lyrics of a song, he knew there was something there he should be cognizant of, but it was just out of reach.

He had given the sketch artist all the same details, but Dimitri knew it wasn't nearly enough to garner any real leads. Their only hope was that some missing piece would fall into place; some latent memory would rise to the surface.

He felt the taxi pull to a stop. Opening his eyes, he saw they were at the hangar for the private plane that would fly him back to Lyon. Stepping out, he paid the driver before retrieving his small bag. Walking to the plane, he nodded to the steward. Taking the stair two at a time, he placed his suitcase in the nearby closet just inside the door, before he took a seat. The flight time was about an hour, which left Dimitri a little time to catch up on emails. Once they were airborne, he pulled out his laptop and logged into the secure server at headquarters. There were various administrative emails. However, there was one in particular that caught his attention. It was an email Hans had copied him on that had come from an old friend of his in the CIA, Associate Deputy Director Natasha Ozera. The email questioned Interpol's insistence on placing a shoot-to-kill order on Le Chat. She had raised the same questions as Dimitri. Assistant Director Croft's response had been terse and abrupt. In no uncertain terms, he informed the A.D.D. that Le Chat was their case, and that given Agent Belikov had been shot, they had no choice but to act with extreme prejudice.

As he reread the emails, he couldn't help but wonder why the CIA was particularly interested in a jewel thief. They tended to focus primarily on terrorism. His eyes widened as realization hit him. Grabbing his phone, he flipped through his contacts until he found her number. Hitting send, he waited for her to answer.

"So, I'm assuming that since you're calling me, you survived?" Tasha said wryly.

"Disappointed?" he joked.

"Only because it wasn't one of my agents who shot you," she teased. "But, in all seriousness, Dimitri. I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear that you're okay. How are you?"

Stifling a groan, he switched the phone to his right hand. "Sore, but fine."

"Good. However, I'm guessing that's not why you called."

"No." Pausing he asked, "Tasha, what's the CIA's interest in Le Chat?"

Silence settled over the phone for a few seconds before she replied, "The CIA has no interest or involvement with a simple jewel thief, Dimitri. Whatever gave you that idea?"

Snorting in derision, Dimitri replied, "Don't try that bullshit on me, Tash. If there's no CIA involvement, then why were you trying to get Croft to rescind the kill order?"

"Our only concern in this particular case, Dimitri, is that we don't want to have over-enthusiastic Interpol agents targeting possible American citizens, either here or abroad. While we don't know Le Chat's nationality yet, if they are American, we obviously have concerns."

"Tasha, I've known you for many years. You know I have a pretty accurate bullshit meter when it comes to you, right?" Pausing, he continued, "Listen, if you've got something classified going on that involves Le Chat, I get it. I'm not asking you to divulge anything related to your case. I just need to know if there's anything you can do to help us catch her."

Silence once again hung heavy. "You think Le Chat is a woman?"

"I know it. I fucking saw her, Tasha!"

"I've read the report, Dimitri. I know you saw a woman. How can you be certain it was Le Chat?"

Scoffing, he responded, "Are you fucking kidding me? A woman, standing in the streets outside of The Louvre, right after it's been robbed. She's wearing all black and, after I'm shot, races off into the night in a waiting speedboat?"

He heard her sighing lightly before she responded, "Look, regardless, there's nothing I can tell you. Even you don't have high enough clearance." Pausing briefly, she said, "I'm sorry."

"Sure you are," he said sarcastically. Sighing heavily, he said, "The whole thing stinks, Tasha. However, I guess I understand. I don't like it, but I do understand." He knew she would have offered any assistance, had she had been able. Feeling bad about striking out at her in frustration, he said, "Any chance Ivan and I will be seeing you soon? It's been too long."

"Well, you know you guys are always welcome to come stateside and pay me a visit. You know, mi casa, es su casa?"

Chuckling, he replied, "Yeah, I know. Who knows, right?"

"Dimitri, I'm glad you're okay. In regards to Le Chat, the only thing I can ask is for you to trust me."

"I'll try, Tash. I'll talk to you later," he said before hanging up the phone.

The taxi he had taken from the airport in Lyon pulled up in front of headquarters. Hopping out, he paid the driver before walking inside after showing his credentials. Taking the elevator to his floor, he walked down the hall to his office, tossing his bag on the small sofa. Walking around behind the desk, he powered up his desktop, sitting gingerly as he waited.

He wasn't settled five minutes before Ivan and Keren burst in, closing the door quickly behind them. "We need to talk," Keren said, her voice hushed.

Raising his eyebrow, Dimitri gestured for the two of them to be seated. "What's up?"

He watched the two as they exchanged nervous glances. Turning to look at Dimitri, Keren said, "It's about Catharine. The woman you met at the gala."

His curiosity peaked, he leaned further in the chair. "What about her?"

"We ran a more thorough check. No red flags, but then Keren started studying her file further," Ivan offered.

Turning to look at the woman, Dimitri waited for her to pick up where Ivan left off. "And?"

"When I kept seeing her name on all the data we had collected, something kept bugging me. It wasn't until I was talking with one of the analysts that I figured it out."

Growing frustrated, Dimitri growled impatiently, "Figured out what exactly?"

Sighing, Keren said, "Her last name. It's Hirsiz."

Shrugging, Dimitri replied, "So? Is that supposed to mean something?"

Jumping in, Ivan responded, "It does in Turkish."

"Dimitri, her last name, translated, means 'burglar.'"

His eyes shifted between the two other agents, trying to figure out what they were trying to tell him. So, Catharine's last name was 'burglar' in Turkish. Catharine. Cat. Cat Burglar. His eyes grew wide as the realization struck him. "Son of a fucking bitch!" he shouted, slamming his fists onto the table.

He saw Keren and Ivan flinch at the outburst, but he was past caring. Anger and rage were roiling off him. He had been played. She had known who he was. She had to, right? It made so much sense, as he reflected on the events of that night. How she had come on to him, engaging him in conversation. His stomach tightened as he thought of how she had tried to seduce him.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, the narrowing of his eyes not lost on the other two. "What?" Keren asked.

Looking at them both, he said, "This doesn't make any sense. The woman I saw outside; the one who saved me. She had long, dark brown hair. Catharine's was an almost blonde brown. Besides, how in the hell would she be able to create such an extensive and airtight identity? I mean we found nothing in her background to indicate she's Le Chat." He knew he was grasping at straws; trying to find reasonable explanations. It was almost too much for him to accept he had been fooled so easily.

It was Keren who responded first. "The hair is easy to explain. It was probably a wig. We've got a forensics team headed to her hotel. She was booked at the George V."

Dimitri could see the hesitation on her face. "What is it?"

Sighing she said, "It's been over forty-eight hours. The room was cleaned after she checked out. I'd be surprised if they'll find anything useful."

"I want to see every second of the security footage from the hotel and the surrounding areas. I also want to talk to everyone she was in contact with. I want her movements traced from the moment she arrived at the hotel until she left."

"The security footage is on its way. We have a team at the hotel now that's interviewing the staff," Keren replied.

The room fell silent once again, as Dimitri looked at both agents. "Is there more?"

"Yes," Ivan said. "We finally got an I.D. on the shooter."

"Tell me," Dimitri snapped.

Ivan opened a file he held in his hand. "His name was Draco Spiridon. His father was from Greece, and his mother was Irish. He was raised in Belfast for most of his life. At eighteen, he enlisted in the Irish Army. Eventually, he was selected to join the Army Ranger Wing. Three years ago, he and a group of fellow soldiers were accused of various crimes while serving in Afghanistan. All mysteriously avoided prosecution, and instead were given dishonorable discharges. Not long after, he and the others fell off the radar."

Dimitri was watching his co-workers closely. He could see the shift in Keren's eyes. "Is there something else, Agent Prinz?"

Meeting his gaze, she replied, "Maybe. Apparently, we're not the only agency interested in Mr. Spiridon. My contacts at Mossad say he and his cohorts were on their radar as well." Pausing, she said, "Along with the CIA and MI6."

Dimitri's eyes widened. It wasn't lost on him the reason why so many powerful intelligence agencies were all hunting one specific group of people. Shaking his head, he said, "This is a hell of a lot bigger than some jewel heists."

Keren nodded, before responding, "Mossad was able to track Spiridon's movements recently. Apparently, he's become a bit careless. A security camera caught him a few days ago in London."

Dimitri straightened up quickly and leaned across the desk. "Do we have the recordings?"

"Not yet, but my contact is supposed to be sending them to me." Keren looked over at Ivan, who gave her a small nod before she turned back to address Dimitri. "He said that they were taken at the London Eye. He had what appeared to be two bodyguards with him." Sighing, she said, "There was a woman with them. It appears to be some sort of meeting. None of the images show what transpired, only their arrival and departure. We tried to trace their movements both before and after the meeting but came up empty. We lost them all at separate points. We caught the woman entering the Northern Line station, where she took the train to Tower Hill, but we lost her after she exited. Spiridon and his men entered a parking garage a few blocks away. They apparently stole a car and dumped it on the outskirts of London. From there they disappeared."

"I want that footage the second it arrives," he barked. If the woman in the photo was Le Chat, it would lend credence to the Assistant Director's assertion that the two were working together. If that were the case, the shoot-to-kill order would remain standing. While he had no love loss for the thief, he couldn't feel as if he was somewhat indebted to her for saving his life.

The two agents nodded before rising and exiting the room. Before she could leave the room, Dimitri said, "Keren, hold up one second." Turning, she returned to stand beside his desk. "What aren't you saying?" he asked.

Rubbing her hand across her forehead, she said, "I wasn't going to say anything yet since we don't have any real confirmation, but of course you realize what this means with Mossad, the CIA and MI6 all following the same perp."

Dimitri nodded solemnly. "Terrorism."

* * *

Exhausted, Dimitri glanced at his watch. It was nearly six thirty in the evening, and he was feeling the sting of the wound biting at sore muscles. Standing slowly, he turned off his computer before picking up his bags. Dimitri had left his car at headquarters when he had left for Paris, so luckily he wouldn't have to pay for a taxi. Taking the elevator to the garage, he was about to slide into the driver's seat when something caught his eye. Reaching over the windshield, he yanked the card from under the wiper. Flipping it over, he saw 'La Nef Des Fous 7:00'. Crumpling the card in his hand, he shoved it into his pants pocket. Sliding behind the wheel, he pulled out of the garage and headed to town.

Turning on to Rue du Bœuf, he parked the car and walked to the tiny restaurant. "Bonsoir, Monsieur," the maître d'hôtel said, showing him the table in the back. As they walked further into the restaurant, Dimitri could see that it was empty, save for the guest of honor and his henchmen.

"Ah, Dimitri, my boy. So good to see you again," Abe said, extending his hand when Dimitri approached the table. Even seated, the man looked imposing. His dark hair, with negligible streaks of gray, was trim and neat, as was his goatee. He wore what appeared to be an expensive silk suit in steel gray. Had that been the extent of his wardrobe, Dimitri would have described him as a subdued businessman. However, the addition of the matching gold silk tie and pocket square gave his persona an aura of the absurd. Yet, Dimitri knew the man was anything but ridiculous. Ibrahim Mazur would just as soon put a bullet through your brain as he would shake your hand.

Dimitri stood in front of him, looking down from his impressive height. Regardless of his size, he knew Abe felt no intimidation in the least. "You realize I could have you arrested?" he asked, the question entirely rhetorical.

Scoffing, Abe picked up his glass of wine and took a sip before setting it down. "Please, Dimitri. Take a seat. You and I both know I'm more use to you out here than in some stuffy prison cell." Picking up his knife and fork, he slowly cut at the succulent looking duck on the plate in front of him. Waving over to the maître d', he indicated they should bring a dish for Dimitri as well.

Slowly, Dimitri sat opposite the man, holding up his hand in negation as the waiter attempted to pour him a glass of wine. "Non, merci." Looking over at Abe, he said, "So, what's so important you had to risk sneaking into headquarters – twice?"

Abe's eyes studied him for a moment before he reached for his wine glass. Taking another small sip, he set it down and replied, "Firstly, never be under the impression that I would risk such a thing." Waving his hand around the near-empty bistro, he said, "I have people to do that for me." Dimitri leaned back slightly in his chair, waiting for Abe to continue. "Secondly, I would think you'd be more than interested to know about the mole within your agency."

"Merci," Dimitri said as the maître d' placed the food in front of him, before turning his attention back to Abe. "Why on earth would I believe you?"

Dimitri had to stifle a laugh at the near-cartoonish look on the man's face. Placing a hand to his chest, Abe replied, "I'm shocked! And, here I thought we had mutual respect; and understanding as it were."

"Abe, you helped my family and me when we needed it most, and I will always be grateful. However, you can't expect me to jeopardize my career, hell my freedom, by meeting up with one of the most wanted men in the world!"

Scoffing once again, Abe responded, "Oh please. You and I both know that Interpol and all those other lovely agencies with their silly acronyms have much bigger worries than me." Leaning across the table, his face suddenly serious and eyes narrowed, he said with a touch of menace to his tone, "Things with which you have now gotten involved." Leaning back up as suddenly, he continued speaking while cutting into the food once again. "Now, about this tiresome spy in your midst. Unfortunately, I don't know anything more than what I put in that note, except to say that whoever it is, they're a trusted and loyal member of The Revolutionary Front."

Dimitri froze, his eyes widening. He wanted to believe that Abe was lying, or that his information was faulty. It would then mean that they hadn't been infiltrated by someone close to the leader of the world's worst terror organization. However, he knew that Abe was never wrong, and above all else, the criminal mastermind was honest. He internally rolled his eyes at the dichotomy. "Shit," he mumbled. Looking up at the man, he said, "Any chance you can find out more about who it might be?"

Chuckling lightly, Abe replied, "I thought you didn't need or want my help, Agent Belikov?"

Now rolling his eyes externally, Dimitri responded, "Well, since I've already pretty much sealed the death of my career by even talking to you…" he said, his words dropping off.

Smiling, Abe pointed his knife at him, saying, "This is true, my friend. I tell you, the line between good and bad, or right and wrong is very thin. I think we all find ourselves walking it precariously from time to time in our lives."

"Well, while I'd love to stick around and wax philosophical with you, I really need to get home," he said, wincing slightly.

"Ah, yes. I heard about your little altercation in Paris." He chuckled as Dimitri looked at him, aghast. "Oh, my boy. When are you going to learn that I know just about everything that goes on in the world?" Pausing to take a sip of wine, he said, "You know, I also heard that your boss, A.D. Croft, has issued a kill order on that jewel thief. Le Chat is their nom de plume, yes?" Nodding, Dimitri waited for the man to continue. "It would be a shame for harm to come to someone whom we both know is only guilty of a little harmless thievery."

The hair on the back of Dimitri's neck stood up, as he took in Abe's words. "You know who Le Chat is, don't you? Does she work for you?" he said, his voice growing louder with each word.

Although he did his best to hide his surprise, Dimitri caught the slight dilation of Abe's pupils, as he replied, "She? How do you know Le Chat is a woman?"

"Because I saw her. The night of the robbery, she was outside the museum. She was talking to a man. Apparently, although we can't confirm it yet, she killed him after he shot me."

"So, you got a good look at her then?" Abe queried, his eyes intense and focused on Dimitri.

"No, not enough to identify her." Even with Abe's attempt to divert Dimitri from his original accusation, he could see the man was lying. The slight relaxing of his body, while imperceptible to most, gave Dimitri all the answers he needed. "But, that doesn't mean I'm not going to damn well try. Know this Zmey, I will catch her. I'd prefer if it were alive so she could answer for her crimes. However, I can't guarantee the others in the intelligence field will be so agreeable. Why don't you do us all a favor, especially your employee, and have her turn herself in." He knew it was a long shot.

Returning to his meal, Abe replied, "Even if she were in my employ, as you seem to presume, why on earth would I do such a thing? Firstly, if she worked for me, she'd be a profitable asset. I'm not a man to easily give up on a good investment. Secondly, you could provide neither of us any assurances that she would not meet some sort of demise once she was in custody."

Dimitri narrowed his eyes at the older man. "I hope you are not accusing me or my agency of anything?" he said, venom lacing his words.

Looking up from his plate, Abe shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I'm only saying that while your intentions may be honorable, you cannot vouch for everyone at Interpol or any of the other agencies around the globe." Pausing, while he took another sip of his wine, he set his glass down before stating, "Your ship has sprung a leak, Dimitri. From what I hear, that particular group wants Le Chat dead more than your little government agencies. Can you honestly sit there and tell me that you could guarantee her safety if she were to turn herself over to you?"

Dimitri's brow furrowed deeply as he considered the man's words. He knew he and his team would do everything in their power to protect the thief. He wanted nothing more than for her to have a fair trial, before being sentenced and placed in a dark hole someplace away from society. However, being completely honest with himself, he saw Abe's point. With a mole inside Interpol, the R.F. could make securing the prisoner a lot more challenging. Looking back up at the man across the table, he said, "No, I suppose not. At least, not right now."

Nodding with a slight smile, Abe responded, "I thought not." Patting his lips with his napkin, he laid it back into his lap before setting his elbows on the table. Resting his chin on top of his interlaced fingers, he stared intently at Dimitri. "I think I might have a solution to everyone's problem."

Wary of the man's gleam in his eyes, Dimitri leaned forward, his curiosity peeked. "And, what exactly would that entail?"

Leaning back casually, he smiled the chilling smile only Zmey could, and replied, "Why, you two should meet, of course."


	7. Chapter 7: Best Laid Plans

**Hi all! Surprise! Yeah, this chapter just belched itself right outta me (eweee, I know. I blame "Rose"). Don't get used to the rapid update. It is most likely a fluke.**

 **Thank you all who reviewed/favorited/followed. You all rock the Kasbah!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns the VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Best Laid Plans**

Rose walked into Tasha's office, her back stiff, ready for the shit storm she was sure was coming. Not only had the stunt in Paris brought down the wrath of the R.F., but now she had every intelligence and policing agency in the world hunting her down. To say it was a cluster fuck was putting it mildly.

She found Tasha seated behind her large desk, with Mason occupying a seat in front. Closing the door behind her, Rose took the other chair next to Mason. Looking over at him, she saw him trying his best to avoid eye contact. Glancing at Tasha, Rose saw her studying her computer with determination. Sitting back in her seat, she waited for Tasha to start the diatribe she knew would be coming.

Typing something, her fingers flying across the keyboard, Tasha finally stilled and turned toward Rose and Mason. "Welcome back, Agent Hathaway. I presume you had a good flight home?" Looking at Tasha warily, Rose knew this was the calm before the storm. Hedging her bets, she simply nodded. Smiling a particularly unnerving smile, Tasha continued, "Good! We wouldn't want our best black ops agent tired and out of sorts. I mean, that could lead to sloppy work. Like, say, letting a mercenary from the R.F. get the drop on you." As Rose started to interject, Tasha thrust her hand in the air, motioning her to stay quiet. "Or, maybe it would lead to an agent being shot by said merc." Tapping a finger to her chin, as if pondering life's greatest problems, she continued. "It could even lead to having a what equates to a bounty on her head!" she finished, nearly shouting.

Having had enough of the Assistant Director's tirade, Rose leaned across the desk, her face flushed in both anger and embarrassment. Tasha had been right on many points, but much of what had happened was not her fault. She'd be damned if she'd let Tasha push the blame on to her. "I get it! It's a mess. A big, old fucked up mess! But make no mistake. None of it was my doing!"

Raising an eyebrow, Tasha replied, "Oh really? Then please enlighten me."

Huffing, Rose responded, "First off, I have no fucking idea how Mr. S. found me."

"Draco Spiridon," Tasha said, interrupting her rebuttal.

"Who?"

"Mr. S. His real name is, or rather was, Draco Spiridon." She proceeded to inform Rose and Mason on the background of the unsavory gun-for-hire. "We assume the leader of the R.F. tasked him with tracking you after the trade in London."

Rose's brow furrowed. She knew she hadn't been followed; on that she was sure. "Look, Assistant Director, I made certain I wasn't followed after the drop. There's no way he tracked me to Paris."

Humming, Tasha turned back to her computer. Looking back at the two agents, she said, "No, I don't believe you were either. It would appear that there is a mole inside Interpol. At least that's what my source says. Would explain why he was there."

Rose's ire grew as she realized that Tasha already knew Rose hadn't been sloppy. Fucking bureaucrats, she thought. "As for Di…Agent Belikov, I don't know how he ended up tracking me outside. I was cautious!"

Tasha smirked. "You might have been, but your little friend within Mazur's organization screwed up royally." Turning her computer monitor around, she pressed a key on the keyboard. The images from the museum played. It was apparently the loop that Mia had created to obscure the theft. Rose's eyes narrowed as she observed the screen. Suddenly, her eyes widening in realization, as she saw the shadow in the corner. It would disappear and reappear quickly, each time the loop cycled.

"Fuck," she whispered.

"That would be an understatement. Apparently, Agent Belikov is as good as they say," she said, smiling.

While the timing couldn't be more inappropriate, Rose couldn't help the tingling that fluttered through her stomach as she thought of all the things at which he might excel. "I'm sorry about Agent Belikov." Pausing, she whispered, "Is he okay?"

Sighing, Tasha replied, "Yes, yes. He'll be fine. Mostly thanks to you, Rose." Her voice had softened. Rose recalled once again how the A.D. and Dimitri were good friends. She knew the fact that he had been shot had worried her as well. "Thank you," she said, smiling warmly at Rose.

Crooking up the corner of her mouth, she replied, "Well it's the least I could for nearly getting him killed." The three laughed before Rose said, "As for the kill order. Any luck getting that resolved?"

Rolling her eyes, Tasha responded, "Unfortunately not. A.D. Croft is being a bit of a hard ass." Tasha's eyes flew down to her cell phone that on her desk as Poison's 'Every Rose has its Thorns" started playing. Grabbing it quickly, she hit the speaker button. "So, I'm assuming that since you're calling me, you survived?" Tasha said wryly.

"Disappointed?" the man joked. Rose's eye flew open as she realized who was on the other end of the phone.

"Only because it wasn't one of my agents who shot you," she teased. "But, in all seriousness, Dimitri. I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear that you're okay. How are you?" As she asked this, she looked to Rose, her eyes showing understanding.

They could hear him trying to stifle a groan, along with a brief rustling noise. "Sore, but fine." Rose winced, trying to imagine the pain he must be enduring.

"Good. However, I'm guessing that's not why you called."

"No." Pausing he asked, "Tasha, what's the CIA's interest in Le Chat?" Rose froze in her seat, her eyes wide as she started at Tasha.

Tasha was silent for a moment as she mentally navigated the best course of action. Finally, she replied, "The CIA has no interest or involvement with a simple jewel thief, Dimitri. Whatever gave you that idea?"

Snorting in derision, Dimitri replied, "Don't try that bullshit on me, Tash. If there's no CIA involvement, then why were you trying to get Croft to rescind the kill order?"

"Our only concern in this particular case, Dimitri, is that we don't want to have over-enthusiastic Interpol agents targeting possible American citizens, either here or abroad. While we don't know Le Chat's nationality yet, if they are American, we obviously have concerns." Tasha tried to contain her laughter as she took in Rose's eye roll.

"Tasha, I've known you for many years. You know I have a pretty accurate bullshit meter when it comes to you, right?" Pausing, he continued, "Listen, if you've got something classified going on that involves Le Chat, I get it. I'm not asking you to divulge anything related to your case. I just need to know if there's anything you can do to help us catch her."

Silence once again hung heavy. "You think Le Chat is a woman?" she said, looking pointedly at Rose.

"I know it. I fucking saw her, Tasha!" Fuck, Rose thought.

"I've read the report, Dimitri. I know you saw a woman. How can you be certain it was Le Chat?"

They could hear him scoffing before he responded, "Are you fucking kidding me? A woman, standing in the streets outside of The Louvre, right after it's been robbed. She's wearing all black and, after I'm shot, races off into the night in a waiting speedboat?"

She sighed lightly before she responded, "Look, regardless, there's nothing I can tell you. Even you don't have high enough clearance." Pausing briefly, she said, "I'm sorry."

"Sure you are," he said, sarcasm lacing his words. Sighing heavily, he said, "The whole things stinks, Tasha. However, I guess I understand. I don't like it, but I do understand. Any chance Ivan and I will be seeing you shortly? It's been too long."

Smiling, she took him off the speaker, saying, "Well, you know you guys are always welcome to come stateside and pay me a visit. You know, mi casa, es su casa?"

Unable to hear his side of the conversation now, Rose could only wait patiently for Tasha to finish the call. "Dimitri, I'm glad you're okay. In regards to Le Chat, the only thing I can ask is for you to trust me," the woman said before hanging up.

"Well, it just keeps getting better and better," Tasha muttered.

"I am sorry, Tasha. Sorry that someone you're so close to got shot because of me – because of my crusade," Rose said softly.

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Please. It's the nature of the job. If we're not shot, stabbed or tortured at least once in the line of duty, I'd think we weren't doing our jobs," she said, trying to make light of the situation. Looking at Mason, she said, "You've been awfully quiet, Agent Ashford. Have anything to add to the discussion?"

Mason looked at both women, a sheepish look crossing his fair features. "Not really. I mean I agree, we've got a real mess to deal with." Pausing, he looked at Rose. "Rose, you did everything right out there. We all did." Looking back at Tasha, he straightened up, his professional persona firmly restored. "However, I think I might have an idea how to salvage this."

Raising her eyebrow, Tasha replied, "Go on."

Glancing at Rose, he said, "What if we were to allow Interpol, and more specifically, Agent Belikov, to capture Le Chat?"

Tasha's eyes widened exponentially as Rose let out a small gasp. "What the hell, Ashford? Are you trying to get me killed?"

Holding up his hand, he motioned for them to let him continue. "I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out. We know there's a mole in Interpol. If Rose, or rather, Lilly, were to be captured, that might just lead the R.F. to make a move. We could use her as bait to lure out their leader, or at the very least, the mole."

Rose glanced at Tasha, sure to find dismay and disagreement on her face. She was, instead, shocked to see her eyes light up with apparent consideration and interest. "Continue, Agent Ashford."

"Wait!" Rose cried. "Are you seriously considering this asinine plan?"

Leveling her eyes at Rose, Tasha said, "I think considering where we stand, it wouldn't hurt to hear him out. Wouldn't you agree?"

Huffing slightly, Rose sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. Nodding reluctantly, she turned to Mason. "So, you propose I let them catch me and then what? What if they don't bother to arrest me, but instead use the opportunity to put a bullet in my brain?"

"Well, that's the tricky part. We could take that chance, or…" he said, waiting for the two women to pick up on his silent suggestion.

Rose's eyes grew wide, as she stared open-mouthed at her fellow agent. Shaking her head vehemently, she nearly shouted, "No! There is no way we're involving Dimitri!"

"So, Agent Ashford, you're recommending we pull Agent Belikov," she said, looking pointedly at Rose, "into this cluster fuck. That we read him in on the entire mission and pray he doesn't run back to Croft to sell us out?"

Mason shrank slightly at her tone, but pushed forward, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm proposing. Look, you've known the man for a long time. It's your call in the end, obviously. Do you think he can be trusted with the bigger picture?"

Tasha sat back in her chair, seemingly in deep thought. Rose simply bounced her eyes back and forth between the two in a mix of panic and incredulity. "You can't be seriously considering this?" she cried.

After a few moments, Tasha leaned forward. "I think this could work. It's risky as hell, but given where we are at the moment, it might be our best bet for putting an end to the Front once and for all." Sensing Rose's movement and probable rebuttal, Tasha turned to her, saying, "I know what you're going to say, Agent Hathaway. Yes, it's risky, but isn't this what you've wanted; to put an end to the Front? This might be our best and only shot. I trust Agent Belikov absolutely. If we can convince him of our plan, I believe he'll work with us."

Rose pressed her lips tightly together. Every fiber in her being was screaming at her to refuse; to find another way. However, deep down in her gut, she knew they were both right. The only shot she had now of identifying and capturing the leader of the Front was to put herself out there as bait. "Fine," she ground out. "If that's what you're ordering me to do, then I'll do it. I just want it on the record that I think this is a bad idea."

Tasha snorted. "Rose, my dear, this is black ops. Nothing goes on the record. Ever."

Rolling her eyes, Rose leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms again. "So, how do you want to play this? Do we let him capture me first and then let him on the whole plan, or, do we read him in first?"

"I think it would be safer if we were to fill him in first. That way we can avoid any unpleasantness, like you getting dead," Tasha said, pointedly. "He's still recovering. He won't be able to fly for a while. I'd like him to come to Langley and meet with us all in person before we move forward."

Rose stood, the need to beat the shit out of something growing increasingly hard to ignore. "Fine. If that's all, I'd like to head out. There are some things I need to take care of."

Nodding curtly, Tasha replied, "Of course. I'll contact you when I've made arrangements for Agent Belikov to come to our office." As Rose turned and headed toward the door, she heard Tasha say, "Oh, and Agent Hathaway? I expect your report on Paris on my desk by tomorrow afternoon."

Mimicking her, Rose nodded before silently walking out of the office. She wasn't more than 50 feet from the door when she heard Mason calling out. "Rose, wait!"

Unwilling to hear any more at that point, she continued walking, something in her gut eating its way up her throat. She had to control her impulses when Mason reached her, grabbing hold of her arm. "Rose, damn it, wait a minute!"

Spinning around, she wrenched his hand from her arm. "What, Mason? Have another hair-brained idea that's going to get me or someone else killed?"

She nearly cringed at the look of hurt that crossed his face, but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. "No. Look, I know I caught you off guard in there, but honestly, it was something that just came to me after the A.D.'s call with Belikov. I don't know, but I just heard something in the man's voice. He seems like a good man, Rose. If Tasha trusts him, then I think we should too."

Grabbing his arm, she pulled Mason into a nearby empty office. Closing the door, she whispered harshly, "Mason, I do not want Dimitri caught up in this. He's already been through enough!"

She saw his eyes soften, as he responded, "Rose, don't think I didn't catch what went on between you two at the gala. The sexual tension between you both was thick enough to cut with a Masamune Katana."

Rose flushed slightly, forgetting that Mason had been at the gala and had probably seen much of her interaction with Dimitri. "That's not the point, Mason. He's recovering from a gunshot wound. The last thing we should be doing is putting him back out there to be shot again, or worse. This isn't his fight!"

"No, it wasn't his fight. However, the minute he saw you and you saved his life, he became a part of it, whether you like it or not. I'm sorry, Rose, but it's too late to put the genie back in that bottle."

"Fuck!" she said, running a hand through her hair. Blowing out a sharp breath, she looked into her partner's eyes, her own concern mirrored in his gaze. "Fine, but we do this my way."

Holding up his hands in surrender, he smiled slightly. "Of course. Has it ever really been any other way?"

Smirking, she pulled him into a hug, squeezing briefly, but tightly. She tried to convey all her unspoken gratitude and appreciation into the gesture. "Thank you, Mason,'' she whispered, before letting him go.

Looking at her quizzically, he said, "For what?"

"For being not only a great partner but a good friend."

* * *

Rose was back at her apartment not long after the meeting. Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, she saw it was nearly three in the afternoon. Deciding she might as well head to Lissa's, she quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Pulling out a bottle of red wine, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door. Reaching the garage a few minutes later, she hopped into the car and sped off down the road. Driving across the Potomac River, she made her way along 14th Street. With traffic, it took her about forty-five minutes to reach their place. They had a three bedroom, three bath condo on 'F' Street, just a few blocks from FBI headquarters. Parking down the street, she walked the short distance to the building.

Rapping her knuckles on the metal door, she waited for one or both to answer. A few seconds later she heard the tell-tale clicking of the lock and sliding of the security chain. Throwing open the door, Rose was immediately engulfed in her best friend's embrace. "Rose!" Lissa screeched, her arms banded tightly around her.

"Lissa! Inside voice!" Rose shouted back, wincing at the slight pain radiating through her eardrums.

Stepping back quickly, Lissa had the good graces to look embarrassed. "Sorry," she nearly whispered. Raising her voice once again, but at a decibel level slightly lower than a dog whistle, she said, "I'm just so excited to see you!" Pulling her into her arms once again, she jumped up and down, shaking Rose along with her.

Chuckling, Rose let her friend expend a little energy before placing her hands on her shoulders to hold her in place. "I'm glad to see you too, Lissa. However, if you don't stop hopping around like a rabbit on crack, I might actually puke all over you," she told her friend. She raked her eyes over the woman, pleased to see she looked as happy and healthy as always. Lissa was an elegant beauty, with long, blonde hair and jade-green eyes. Her porcelain skin gave her an ethereal look. While she was the same height as Rose, she had a smaller bone structure and less curvaceous body. Still, Rose thought her one of the most beautiful women she knew.

Laughing, Lissa rolled her eyes and pulled Rose into the entryway. "Christian!" she yelled, once again tempting Rose to cover her already assaulted ears. "Rose is here!"

From somewhere further into the house, Rose heard his muted reply, "Oh joy. My life is now complete."

Smirking, Rose yelled back, "Just cause I'm a better agent than you, that's no reason to be jealous."

She heard him padding down the hardwood stairs before he rounded the corner. He was barefoot and wearing a pair of faded jeans with a black t-shirt. Although Rose saw Christian as more an annoying sibling, she did have to admire her friend's choice. Christian was about six-feet tall with a slim, but muscular build. His hair was jet black, and his eyes were a soul-stealing ice blue. She had teased him mercilessly that since he was sub-intelligent, he should have focused on being a model instead of an FBI agent. Rose chuckled as she read the words on his shirt: FBI Rules & the CIA Drools. "Nice shirt, jackass," she said, smiling.

Pulling it out and looking down, he grinned before replying, "Hey, it only speaks the truth." Pulling her into a hug, he whispered, "Good to have you back safe, Rosie."

Pushing him off her, she shoved at his shoulder. "Watch it, wannabe. I've told you what would happen if you called me that again."

Rolling his eyes, he responded, "You might be able to kill me with a paperclip, but I can still outshoot you."

"Don't test me, desk jockey." Rose snickered slightly at Christian's wounded expression. Christian had been reassigned to desk duty once he and Lissa had married. Although they had both agreed that he would give up field work, Rose could tell he still missed the action.

Sliding her arm into Rose's, Lissa pulled her friend into the main living area. The large kitchen sat at the back, while the living room opened off the marble island that separated the spaces. Large bay windows highlighted the space, looking directly over the busy street below. Rose handed Lissa the bottle of wine, before walking over to look out the windows. "So, you still like the place?" she asked them both.

She could hear Lissa fumbling around in the kitchen behind her. "Definitely! It's close enough to the office so Christian can come home for lunch. Plus, he doesn't have to fight traffic. They also just opened a great little restaurant a few doors down that we're dying to try. Rose, you have to come with us!"

Turning, Rose saw her hand Christian the bottle of wine, enlisting his assistance in opening it. Pulling out three glasses, she set them on the counter. While the wine sat open to breathe for a few minutes, Lissa busied herself with making up some hors-d'oeuvres. "So, Rose, how long are you stateside for this time?" Christian asked.

Shrugging, she replied, "Not sure. Waiting on a couple of things before I get my next assignment." Walking over to the kitchen, she took a seat at the island's bar. Christian was pouring the wine and slid a glass toward her. She watched as Christian filled another glass before re-corking the bottle. Turning to her friend, she said, "Lissa? You're not having a glass of wine? Has the earth shifted on its axis?" Just like herself, she knew Lissa enjoyed a nice glass of wine.

Noticing her friend's shift in posture, as she looked nervously at her husband, Rose started to grow mildly concerned. Finally looking back at Rose, Lissa said, "Well, I would, but it probably wouldn't be good for the baby."

Rose's eyes widened, as she looked rapidly between the duo. Christian had pulled Lissa into his side, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. Placing a light kiss to her head, he said, "Yeah, we wouldn't want him or her to turn out like you, Rose."

Still stunned, Rose slid off the chair and rushed around to the other side, pulling both her friends into a tight hug. "Oh my gosh, you guys! This is incredible!" As they were returning her embrace, she couldn't help but feel her eyes moisten as she thought back to the many, many months her best friend and her husband had tried to conceive. Pulling back, she asked excitedly, "How? When?"

Both of them laughed, but it was Lissa who answered, "Well the how is pretty self-explanatory." Pausing, she looked loving up at Christian, as she said, "The when is about six weeks ago."

Smiling broadly, Rose clapped her hand on Christian's shoulder. "Way to go there, fire crotch. Guess you haven't been firing blanks all this time."

"Fuck you, Rosie," he retorted, even though he bore a grin as wide as hers.

"So," Rose said, raising her glass. "I propose a toast." Lissa picked up her glass of sparkling water she had poured herself, while Christian lifted his own glass. "To my best friend. May your pregnancy be stress-free, and may you be blessed with a healthy child." Turning to Christian, she said, "And, to her husband and my brother from another mother. May you try your damnedest to not screw it up too badly once it's born." As Christian gave her a dirty look, Lissa laughed gaily before the three clinked their glasses together, sealing the toast.

They spent the next hour or so chatting, while Christian prepared dinner. As much as Rose liked to tease and abuse the man, she had to give him credit for his skills in the kitchen. If he hadn't have chosen a life with the government, he most certainly could have opened his own restaurant. The man was a god in the kitchen. Her stomach let forth a rumble that could give the sonic boom a run for its money as she smelled the aromatic offerings wafting from the oven. Her friends laughed before Christian said, "Shit, I should have made more. I forgot we were having the bottomless pit over for dinner."

"Hardy har har," Rose said, sticking her tongue out. "I'll have you know I haven't eaten much lately."

The pair grew somber, as Christian looked at Rose, empathy pooling in his crystal-like eyes. "Was it bad this time?"

Rose shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Whatever. It is what it is. I'm just glad it wasn't worse." Rose felt bad for not being able to go into specifics. While she knew Christian's clearance with the FBI gave him access to Interpol's investigation files, it didn't allow her to read him into the case. With Lissa in the mix, she would have to avoid speaking about work nearly entirely.

Nodding in understanding, Christian said, "Well, dinner's about ready. Let's get the ravenous Rose here fed." Placing the food onto the plates, they each grabbed one before heading over to the small dining room table.

The rest of the evening was spent with delicious food, rich wine, and intelligent conversation. It wasn't until Rose's undercover phone beeped that she glanced at the time. Flipping open the screen, she saw she had a couple of missed calls from Abe. Jumping up, she said, "Shit, I'm sorry. I've got to run."

Walking toward the door, she heard the other two trailing close behind. "Sure. But promise me, Rose, we'll get together again before you have to jet off once more," Lissa said at her back, trying hard to hide the disappointment.

Rose cursed herself, realizing she really had neglected her friends. Turning at the door, she saw Christian holding Lissa in his arms, one hand rubbing gently over her upper arm. The look of adoration he bestowed upon her nearly took Rose's breath away. For a split second, her own body yearned to feel the same; to have a man look at her with the same want and reverence. With a weak smile, she replied, "Of course! While I'm not sure how long I'll be in town, we'll definitely make plans for a girls' day out. We could go shopping or maybe do a day at the spa?" Seeing her best friend's eyes light up in eagerness, Rose knew she had been forgiven, even if only temporarily. Once Rose left again, she would vanish from their lives for who knows how long. This time, however, the sting within her was heightened by the thought of leaving her best friend behind, newly pregnant and most likely a little anxious.

"It's a date," Lissa said fondly. Stepping out of Christian's arms, she pulled Rose into an embrace. Leaning into her ear, she said softly, "I'll need the baby's godmother around as much as possible."

Rose leaned back, still caught in the embrace. Her eyes were wide with surprise. She felt them mist up as she looked first at Lissa and then at Christian. He was smiling warmly at her and gave her a brief nod. Looking back at her friend, she said breathlessly, "Wow. I'm…I'm…," she said, failing to find the words. What she wanted to say was that she was honored. However, what she felt deep in her bones was terror. Not only was she not equipped to be a parent based on her career choice alone, but she also had zero maternal instincts. While women like Lissa walked around worried about their biological clocks, Rose worried more about which semi-automatic to take into the field. Seeing the look of concern on her friend's face, she smiled slightly and said, "I'm honored, Lissa." She felt relief when she saw her friend's face alight with joy.

Hugging Christian once again and offering her congratulations, Rose left the condo and headed back to her car. Sliding into the driver's seat, she leaned her head against the steering wheel. Taking in calming breaths, Rose sat back up and pulled out into traffic. Driving back toward Virginia, she pulled out onto the 14th Street bridge before taking the road back to McLean. Pulling into her parking space, Rose slipped out and made her way back upstairs. Unlocking the door, she pushed it closed as she dropped her keys on the nearby table.

As she was sliding off her shoes, she felt the phone she had slipped into her jeans pocket vibrate. Pulling it out, she swiped at the screen. "Hey, Abe. What's up?"

"Well, firstly, I don't appreciate not having my calls answered the first time," he said, his voice like steel.

Sighing, Rose replied, "I'm sorry, sir. I had some errands to run, and I had the phone on vibrate. It won't happen again."

"It better not," he said. "Secondly, I have something critical we must discuss," he continued, his tone less harsh, but just as impersonal.

She tensed slightly. She knew when Abe sounded as he did, that could only mean that things were not going to plan. "Certainly, sir." Walking to her sofa, she sat down, waiting for him to begin.

"I've not had any luck discerning how the Front knew you would be at the Louvre. I can only say it's a good thing that you killed Spiridon before he could reveal your true appearance to his boss. Also, my contact at Interpol says it's unlikely the kill-order will be rescinded."

"So, what does this mean for your plans for the Star?" she asked, attempting to hide the irritation and frustration from her voice.

"It means we continue to wait."

Silence hung over the line as Rose waited for Abe to continue. After a few seconds, she said, "Sir? Is there more?"

Sighing, he replied, "Yes, but I think it's something we should talk about in person. I'll be in D.C. tomorrow. Once I've arrived, we'll schedule a time and place to meet."

Rose could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand. For Abe to risk entry into the U.S. meant that the shit had really hit the fan. If things were going sideways, Rose wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't just put a bullet in her to end all his troubles. Part of her was screaming to tell him not to come; to put it off as if she was concerned for his safety. The other part was equally vocal, telling her to let things play out. She had come too far to let her goal slip through her fingers.

"Lilly, are you there?" she heard him ask.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. Okay, that sounds good. Text me when you land with the time and place, and I'll be there."

"Very good. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Hanging up, she tossed the phone onto the coffee table, ignoring the jarring sound of the hard plastic hitting the glass top. Running both hands through her hair, her eyes darted around aimlessly as she tried to work through the plan. If he were merely coming to offer a solution or brainstorm an idea, she'd be free to meet him at any location. However, if, as she feared, he was coming to tie up loose ends, a public place would be more beneficial. Rising, she strode over to her gun safe, unlocking it. Pulling out her Sig, as well as her backup Glock, she set them on the bureau. If it was a fight the man was looking for, she'd make sure not to disappoint.


	8. Chapter 8: Tightening the Noose

**Thank you all for your kind reviews/follows/favorites, as usual. They mean more than you know. I hope the story is continuing to keep you entertained.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns the VA characters.**

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 **Chapter 8: Tightening the Noose**

One week later, Dimitri sat at his desk, his eyes blurry from viewing the security footage they had obtained. The images from London had been grainy and difficult to decipher. Even their advanced software hadn't been able to garner much in the way of facial recognition. They were able to discern it was definitely Spiridon. The two others with him had also been identified as men who had served with and been discharged alongside Draco. At least they had been able to create profiles for the two and had entered them into the watch list. The woman was another story. While Dimitri was sure it was Le Chat, the only similarities he could note were in the build of her voluptuous body. She had the same firm, muscular build that was accentuated by just the right amount of womanly curves.

They had also been able to recover footage from the hotel in Paris. These images were a bit clearer, but they showed nothing new. He had been up close and personal with "Catharine Hirsiz." He knew how those curves felt and what her lips looked like, as well as tasted. Shaking his head from those scintillating thoughts, he returned his focus to the rest of the footage. Over and over he reviewed the museum's security feeds, looking for any sign of Spiridon or the mysterious maintenance man. He had found nothing.

Sighing, he rubbed at his bloodshot, weary eyes. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was nearly noon. Feeling the subtle hunger pains gnawing at his spine, he stood and stretched before grabbing his suit jacket off the back of his desk chair. Sliding it on, he made his way to the door and headed down the long corridor.

Rapping his knuckles against the wood, he waited for a response. "Come in," came the feminine voice from inside.

Pushing open the door, Dimitri peeked his head around the frame. "I'm headed to lunch. Care to join me?"

Keren looked up from the desk, a warm smile on her face. "Sure, just give me a second." Shutting down her computer, she grabbed her purse from the desk and stood. Walking around, she followed him out and down to the garage. As they were walking to his car, she asked, "So, what's the occasion?"

"No occasion. Can't a friend just invite another friend to lunch?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

He could feel her eyes on him, as he opened up the car door for her. "Why is it you all always forget?" she said, shaking her head slightly.

As she was sliding into the passenger's seat, he asked, "Forget what?"

Looking up at him, she smirked before replying, "That I'm the human lie detector, idiot. Now get in the car. You obviously need to talk about something. Away from prying eyes and ears."

Huffing at her accurate assessment of the situation, he closed her door before walking around and getting in. Pulling out, he made quick time into town. Selecting a quiet bistro, he and Keren made their way inside, finding a quiet table in the back.

After ordering their lunch, Dimitri sat back, sipping his sparkling water. "So, what's with all the stealth, Bond?" she asked, teasingly.

Rolling his eyes, Dimitri said, "This is serious, Keren. You're the only I think I can trust with this. Probably Ivan too, but I think it would be better to just read you in on what's going on first. Then you can help me decide whether to involve him."

Keren sat up a little straighter in her seat before leaning across the table. Resting her forearms on top, she whispered, "So, what's going on?"

Mimicking her movements, Dimitri said lowly, "We have a mole inside headquarters."

Keren's eyes rose dramatically as she absorbed the news. "How do you know?"

Avoiding eye contact while he took another sip of the water, he said, "Can we just say I have a source and leave it at that?"

Putting her hand over the top of his glass before he could raise it to his lips once again, Keren gently pushed it back down to the table. "Uh, no, we can't. You can't just tell me we have a traitor in one of the world's largest intelligence agencies and then tell me to just trust your 'anonymous source.'"

Sighing heavily, Dimitri scrubbed a hand over his face. "Fine," he said heavily. "It's Ibrahim Mazur."

He hadn't been sure what reaction to expect, but her laughter had not been one of them. Trying to control her giggling, she said, "Oh, Dimitri, are you saying that you've taken the word of one of the world's most notorious criminals? I thought I taught you better than that?"

Growling lowly, he grated out, "I'm serious here, Keren." Seeing her quickly sober up, he leaned further across the table. "Listen, there's something you should know. I'm trusting you to keep this between us." Her eyes now steady and focused, she simply nodded. Sitting back slightly, he continued, "My father wasn't a good man. To say he was a bastard is putting it mildly. Besides all the other things that made him a shitty father, his biggest sin was that he liked to get drunk and beat my mother." He looked up to see Keren's eyes soften in that expression he loathed; pity. Swallowing hard, he said, "It finally became too much, and in fear and anger, I tried to stop him." A humorless laugh escaped his lips. "Needless to say, I didn't succeed. The only thing I accomplished that day was ending up at the hospital. He had broken my arm and nearly broken my leg. Back then, in our village, things like this weren't reported. Especially if the parent claimed it was an accident." Stopping to take another sip of water, he went on. "I had to stay in the hospital for a few days. While I was there, my mother came to see me. She told me my father was gone and wouldn't be coming back."

Reaching her hand across the table to cover his, Keren said, "I'm so sorry, Dimitri. I had no idea."

Patting her hand lightly, he pulled away, that old familiar sense of self-loathing and doubt cascading over him. You're nothing, and you're just like him. "Thank you." Inhaling deeply, he started again, "Anyway, my mother was so happy. She hadn't had the strength or support to make him leave on her own. However, I suppose once he had beat me, she took, shall we say, drastic steps." Seeing Keren's eyes widen in dismay, he waved her concern away with his hand. "No, she didn't kill him. At least not with her own hand."

Gasping, Keren said quietly, "Mazur?"

Dimitri nodded solemnly. "She reached out to him after I was in the hospital. She had offered him money to help convince my father to leave. Mazur had refused the money, but had offered to persuade my father to leave town." Pausing briefly, he said, "My mother still believes my father simply packed up and left for parts unknown."

Keren's eyes hardened slightly, but she merely nodded. "But you know differently."

Dimitri nodded slowly in response. "I learned years later that while my father was being escorted from town, he attacked one of Abe's men. They shot and killed him."

"And, you blame yourself?" Keren asked quietly.

Shaking his head, Dimitri replied, "No, not at all. The bastard got what he deserved. I have no qualms about what happened."

"So, why all the secrecy?"

Dimitri's eyes widened. "You're kidding me, right? If this ever got out, people would think my mother arranged for my father to be murdered." His expression turned hard as he said, "Besides, even though Abe never took any money, he didn't for one second let me forget the debt we owed."

Realization crept into Keren's eyes. "So, how exactly has he been collecting on that debt?"

Flashing a brief look at her, he looked down before saying, "Nothing overt. Let's just say I've looked the other way sometimes when it's come to his business dealings that have intersected with cases I've been working." Looking back at her, he quickly said, "Trust me, I would never have let anything slide that would have led to the harm of innocent people. Abe knows he isn't getting a free pass with me."

"But, you trust him? When he says we have a mole inside Interpol?"

Nodding in affirmation, he said, "If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that Abe can be trusted when it comes to people he feels are important to him. Not only is his telling me his way of protecting me, but it's also a way to protect himself." Dimitri laughed internally at the absurdity of his words. He looked up in mild shock when he heard Keren chuckling as well. "I know, it sounds crazy."

Shaking her head, she responded, "No, actually it doesn't. I've got a secret of my own." She paused as the waiter brought their order. Once he had left, she continued, "The case I told you about? With the child sex slave trade?" Nodding, he waited. "Abe was one of my informants – off the books." Now it was Dimitri's turn to express surprise, as his own eyes grew wide. Raising her eyebrows, she said, "Yes, I know it's ironic, but if there was one thing I've learned about Mazur over the years, it's that while he's a criminal, he also cares deeply for those that matter to him." Chuckling, she said, "I guess you could say he's a mobster with a heart."

"So, you believe him too? About the mole?" Dimitri asked.

"I think you're right. If he's telling you there's a mole, then it's both his way of helping you as well as protecting his own ass." Pausing, she said, "So, yeah, I think I believe him."

Taking a bite of his salad, Dimitri pondered her words. He also was drawn back to Abe's unwavering support of Le Chat. He realized that the cat burglar was someone Abe truly cared about. He wondered what it was that had brought the two together. It would have to be big, for Mazur to risk his most valuable asset. "I'd like you to do a little digging. Talk to everyone at the office, but keep it casual – off the books. Try and see if you can suss out who our little rat might be."

Nodding, she said, "Okay. Do you have anyone, in particular, you're concerned about?"

He ran through all those he had worked with frequently. He had nearly complete faith in all of them. They had never given him cause for concern. However, he knew that everyone had a breaking point; a weakness to be manipulated. He would merely have to examine each of them to determine if any had reached that point. Shaking his head in response, he said, "Not with anyone on the team. However, we can't single any one person out yet. Let's run some financials, quietly. See if anyone has been making any large purchases or deposits. Look at travel patterns, both personal and work related. See if anyone's been visiting a particular location more than once. I'd say we should go back at least five years." As he was giving her instructions, he came to the quick realization of how large a task this would be. "Start with Ivan. Once we've cleared him, I'd like to bring him in on this and get his help."

Keren nodded. "Sounds good. I'll start as soon as we get back to the office." After taking a bite of her salad, which had sat uneaten, she said, "So, any luck on the Le Chat case?"

Dimitri continued to chew at his food, uncertainty coursing through him as to whether he should tell Keren about Abe's proposal. Coming to the realization that she could be trusted, he said, "Actually, that's another thing I should tell you about Abe." He saw her look at him, exacerbated. "I know, I know," he said. "It would appear, although he never confirmed it, that apparently, Le Chat works for Mazur."

He was surprised to see that Keren, in fact, didn't seem caught off guard by the news. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, "It wouldn't surprise me at all. This seems to be his bailiwick. Acquire high priced items for sale to customers. Yes, I could definitely see Le Chat working for him."

"Well, he requested a meeting about a week ago." Seeing Keren's raised brow, he continued, "Yeah, apparently he's concerned for the thief's safety, given the kill-order."

"Makes sense. If she's one of his most valuable assets, he's going to do whatever it takes to keep her free and breathing."

"Right. Which brings me to my next big piece of news." Pausing, he said, "He wants to set up a meeting between Le Chat and me."

"What?" she said, her voice raising enough to garner looks from other patrons.

Looking around nervously, Dimitri turned to back to her. "Could you try to keep it down?"

Looking briefly sheepish, she whispered, "Sorry." Leaning across the table, she asked, "Are you going to do it?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't decided. I don't think Abe would try and set me up or do me any physical harm. I just can't seem to get a handle on the angle. I'd be surprised if he trusted me not to arrest her on the spot. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's desperate. He cares about this woman. She has to matter to him, more than as an employee, for him to risk this."

Finishing lunch, they drove back to the office. Walking to his own, Dimitri saw he had a message from Tasha. Picking up his phone he dialed her number. After a couple of rings, she answered, "Hey, Dimka."

He cringed slightly at the nickname. It had been fine when he was younger, but as a grown man, it felt out of place. "Hey, Tasha. I saw you called earlier."

"Yes, I did. I have a proposition for you. How would you feel about making a personal trip to D.C? More specifically, to the CIA's Langley office?"

"Well, while I'd love to visit with you, I'm kind of in the middle of a shit storm here, Tash."

Chuckling, she said, "Yes, well while I'd love for this to be a social call, I was thinking it would be more along the lines of answering some of those pesky Le Chat questions you were asking earlier."

Dimitri sat up straight, his muscles rigid. "Why now?"

"Let's just say that things have changed. I feel it would be in everyone's best interest if we were to share some of our intelligence. And, since I'm aware that you have a little tiny rodent problem in your office, I thought it would be safer to meet here."

Dimitri should have been surprised that Tasha knew of the mole, but he knew she had access to just about everything. "I agree; it would be risky meeting here or talking over the phone. When did you want me there?"

"As soon as possible. We've got a flight headed back to the States from Paris with a few agents and personnel. You could hop a ride if you like. It leaves tomorrow morning. Since it'll be the weekend, why don't you take some time to relax, and we'll meet in my office on Monday morning."

Dimitri inhaled sharply. So soon, he thought. He'd have to make some excuse to Croft. He'd also be leaving Keren with the bulk of the investigation into the mole's identity. Realizing he didn't really have a choice, he said, "Sounds good. Send me the flight information."

Hanging up, he stood and walked down to the A.D.'s office. Knocking lightly, he opened it as the man grunted for him to enter. "What is it, Agent Belikov?"

Stepping up to his desk, he said, "Sir, I'd like to request a few day's personal time."

Croft's head shot up from the desk, a look of surprise coloring his features. "Now?" he exclaimed. "In case you hadn't realized, we're sort of in the middle of an important investigation."

"I realize that, sir. It's just that after the shooting, I still feel as if I need a bit more time to recuperate. Besides, the team can analyze all the data we have from Le Chat to date on their own. I'll only be a phone call away if something should come up."

Eyeing him with some trepidation, Croft huffed out a breath, before replying, "Fine. I'll give you a week. Seeing as how you didn't take any downtime after the shooting," he added. As Dimitri was about to thank him and leave, the man said, "But, I fully expect your ass back in this office at the end of the week."

Nodding, Dimitri thanked him and walked back to his own office. Sitting at his computer, he worked on getting things settled before leaving for the day. Reading through his emails, Dimitri saw one from his former partner in the FBI. He lived with his wife in D.C. Dimitri smiled as he read the man's announcement that he and wife were expecting. Typing a reply, Dimitri let him know he would be in town the following day and would enjoy seeing them both. It was only a couple of minutes later he received a response, inviting him over to their place for dinner the day after he arrived. Confirming the plans, Dimitri wrapped up the remainder of his work before locking up his office. Heading toward the elevator, he stopped by Keren's office. She was intently focused on her computer screen when he entered. Closing the door, he moved to sit in a chair opposite her. "Hey, I have some interesting news."

Looking up, she replied, "I'm not sure I can take many more of your surprises today, Belikov."

Smirking at her, he said, "I got a call from Tasha a little while ago. Turns out she's had a change of heart about filling me on the CIA's interest in Le Chat. This could be a huge break for us. If we can get more specifics, we might actually be able to end this whole mess before it gets out of hand."

Keren snickered, "You mean before it gets any more out of hand than it is already?

Cocking up the corner of his mouth, he said, wryly, "Yeah. Anyway, because of our little infestation here, Tasha's insisting we meet in person. I'm flying to D.C. tomorrow. I've asked Croft for some vacation. Told him I needed to time recuperate. Should be in the States for a week."

"Wow, that's fast. What do you want to do about our project here?"

"Keep at it. I'll have my laptop with me, as well as my phone. Call me with anything you find." Rising to leave, he made his way to the door. Turning back before opening it, he said, "Thanks, Keren. I appreciate you keeping what we talked about today between us. I think we both know what kind of damage this could do to my career if it ever got out."

The woman smiled. "Yeah, to both our careers. Besides, what's that saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?

Dimitri chuckled lightly. "Exactly. If Abe can get us closer to Le Chat and whatever other big bad is involved, then I think it might be worth the risk."

"Have a good flight, and I'll let you know if and when I find anything."

Nodding, he turned and left her office before making his way to his car. Driving back to his apartment, he couldn't help but ponder all that happened over the last few days. Events were unfolding faster than he had expected, and in ways he couldn't have considered. His gut was eating away at him, letting him know there was more going on than he realized. Whatever was going on, it was big, and it eclipsed that of tracking down a jewel thief. With that thought, his mind automatically recalled the feelings and sensations he had experienced when he was with Le Chat. He was surprised by the small smile that quirked at his lips as he realized his first impressions of Catharine had been correct. Underneath her façade lay a dark-haired beauty that stirred things deep within him. Just as quickly he buried the feelings and sensations. She was a criminal, and he was the law. Whatever attraction lay beneath the surface; it was his job to bring her in. However, he knew one thing for sure. No matter her crime, he would do whatever it took to keep her alive.

* * *

The next morning, Dimitri finished packing. Holstering his gun, he grabbed his bag and briefcase, along with his keys before making his way down to the waiting taxi. The drive to the airport on the outskirts of town took about an hour. He arrived with about thirty minutes to spare. Pulling up in front of the hangar, he quickly got out, paid the driver and retrieved his bags. Walking toward the waiting plane, he immediately introduced himself to the pilot and two other passengers. He smiled broadly as he recognized one of the men. Reaching out his hand he said, "Good to see you again, Ethan." The other man clasped his outstretched hand and shook it heartily, smiling in return. "Tasha didn't tell me you'd be on this flight?" Ethan Moore was an analyst with the CIA and Tasha's long-time boyfriend. He was a good man, and Dimitri was glad they'd have time to catch up.

"Yeah, I think she wanted it to be a surprise. You know how she is?" he said, grinning.

Rolling his eyes, he turned to the other man. Reaching his hand out, he introduced himself. "Agent Belikov with Interpol."

The other man hesitated and looked down at Dimitri's hand with a look of distaste. After a beat, he took Dimitri's hand in a limp, weak handshake. "Stan Alto."

Glancing at Ethan, Dimitri stifled a chuckle as he took in his eye roll. He guessed Ethan wasn't a fan of Mr. Alto's. They all boarded the plane, with Dimitri taking a seat next to Ethan. Mr. Alto took a position in the back and promptly set to work, pulling out various files.

"What's with the douche?" Dimitri whispered, pointing back to the other man.

Ethan chuckled. "Stan? He's a good agent, but a bit of a company man, if you know what I mean. Everything is by the book. Plus, he has a real distaste for any other agency outside the CIA. In his opinion, we're the only counter-intelligence agency the world needs."

"Ah, so he doesn't play well with others?"

"That's putting it mildly." Switching topics, Ethan said, "So, what's bringing you to the States?"

Raising an eyebrow, Dimitri responded, "What? Tasha didn't fill you in?"

Rolling his eyes, he said, "Right. Because the Associate Deputy Director is going to tell her analyst boyfriend classified information as pillow talk."

Chuckling, Dimitri replied, "Well if she didn't tell you, then I sure as hell won't. You and I both know it's not good to get on her bad side."

Nodding, the man asked, "So, besides whatever secret business you have with the CIA, have any other plans while you're in town? How long will you be staying?"

"Well, I'm supposed to have dinner with my former partner at the FBI and his wife tomorrow night. Should be great. I haven't seen either of them in a while. I just found out that they're expecting a baby. I am staying about a week, I guess. I have a few other items to take care of while I'm there."

"So, are you staying with Tasha or grabbing a hotel?"

"I'm staying at the Sofitel in D.C.," Dimitri responded.

Ethan let out a low whistle. "Pretty fancy for a government employee."

Laughing, Dimitri replied, "Well, as I'm technically on vacation, I figured I'd splurge. Besides, I haven't taken a vacation in a long time."

The two spent most of the remaining seven-hour flight catching up. By the time the plane landed at Washington National Airport, Dimitri was exhausted. Saying goodbye to both Ethan and Alto, Dimitri made his way to the terminal. Grabbing a cab, he sat back as they drove across the 14th Street bridge. Turning left on Constitution, they took the next right onto 15th Street. A few blocks later the cab pulled up in front of the hotel. Tipping the driver and grabbing his bags, he nodded to the doorman as he entered the building. He quickly made his way to the concierge desk.

"Good evening. Welcome to the Sofitel. How may I assist you?" the young woman asked.

"Reservation for Dimitri Belikov."

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, as she searched the system. "Ah, yes. I have you in a Luxury Room for one week. Will you be using the credit card on file, Mr. Belikov?"

"Yes," he replied.

Typing furiously, she said, "May I see your passport?" Pulling it from his jacket pocket, he slid it across the smooth surface. Once she had entered in the relevant information, she handed it back to him. Placing the printout on the top of the counter, she handed him a pen. "Please sign here, and initial here," she said, indicating the places on the form. Once that was complete, she handed him the keycard. "You are in room 804. The elevators are behind you. Please enjoy your stay, and if you need anything, please let us know."

Nodding thanks, Dimitri shouldered his bag while carrying his briefcase in his hand. After a quick ride up the elevator, Dimitri stepped out and walked the few doors down to his room. Sliding in the card, he opened the door and stepped inside. The room was split into two living spaces, with a king bed in the main room and a small office and den on the side. The large bathroom had a separate, large, free standing tub and rain shower.

Setting his bag on the bed, he walked into the other room, laying his briefcase atop the desk. Pulling out his computer, he plugged it into the outlet and powered it up. He then plugged his phone in to charge, as well. While he waited on the computer, he pulled a bottle of sparkling water from the mini-fridge and perused the room service menu. Deciding on a salad, he phoned in the order. Sitting down at the desk, he caught up on his emails.

About 20 minutes later his food arrived. Sitting in front of the television, he turned on the news, diving into the meal. Once he was done eating, he turned off the television, placing the now empty tray outside his door. As he was about to hit the shower, he heard his phone ring from the other room. Grabbing it from the desk, he saw it was an unknown caller. Swiping, he answered, "Hello?"

"Ah, Dimitri, my boy. I assume you made it to D.C. okay?" Abe's smooth voice queried.

"How the hell…" he said.

"Come now, Dimitri. You must know by now there isn't much that goes on that I don't know about."

"How did you get this number?" he ground out.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Abe asked, amusement in his voice.

Sighing, Dimitri replied, "What do you want?"

"Just to let you know that I'm working on arranging a meeting with Le Chat. Since she's in the same vicinity as you at the moment, I thought now would be a perfect time. Is there a day or time that works best for you?"

Le Chat was in D.C.! He wondered if she was here to pull another job. Should he warn the authorities? He immediately discounted the idea, knowing it would lead to more questions than he was willing to answer. Still, he couldn't help pose the question, "Looking to rob the Smithsonian, are we?"

Chuckling, Abe said, "Not today."

Sighing, Dimitri said, "Fine. I've got plans tomorrow night and a work thing on Monday morning. Any other time would work."

"All right. I'll see what I can do and call you with the details once they're arranged. I assume I don't have to advise against notifying any of the local authorities about our little get-together?"

Dimitri snorted, "No. I think that's been made pretty clear." Pausing, he said, "So, tell me, how exactly did you persuade her to take this meeting? And, what do you hope to gain?"

"Let's just say that I can be very persuasive. I never like to make anyone do anything they don't want to. It's much easier if people simply see reason and do what I ask them to, without the use of force," he replied. "As for what I hope to gain from this endeavor, it's really quite simple. I look to protect what's mine."

"So, am I to assume that's confirmation that Le Chat works for you?"

Abe chuckled once again. "I will confirm or deny nothing, my boy. You should know that by now." Pausing, he asked, "Speaking of which, how is your family?"

"Fine. While I will always be appreciative for your help when I was a boy, I hope you realize this is no way makes us friends. I would appreciate it if you left my family out of our dealings from now on."

"Of course. I know exactly how important family is, Agent Belikov. We would both do whatever was necessary to protect those we care about."

Dimitri shuddered slightly at the ominous tone in the man's voice. He also knew there was never any second-guessing the meaning behind Abe's words. He would do whatever it took to protect Le Chat, even if it meant coming after him. "Yes, well hopefully we can resolve all of this without it resulting in anything untoward."

"Exactly!" Abe exclaimed. "See, I knew you were an intelligent man, Belikov. Well, I'll let you get some rest. I'll let you know when we can set up the meeting."

Hanging up, Dimitri turned back to the bathroom, shedding his clothes along the way. Stepping under the shower, he let the hot water cascade over his sore muscles. Even with physical therapy, Dimitri was still experiencing small bouts of pain from the wound. They had said it would be a while before he recovered full use. Luckily, he thought to himself, he was right-handed, so holding and shooting his gun wouldn't be affected. Lathering his hair and body, he rinsed off quickly, eager to get some rest. Drying off, he slipped on a pair of cotton pants before climbing under the silky covers. Reaching over to turn off the light, he turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

As he drifted off to sleep, thinking about the upcoming meeting, he found himself wondering what his first impulse would be upon seeing her. Would he kiss her or kill her?


	9. Chapter 9: Friends and Enemies

**Thank you all for your lovely reviews. Thanks to those who are following and favorited as well. I reply to all reviews unless you have PMs blocked or are an unregistered (Guest) user.**

 **Also, a HUGE shout out to Lea0014 for her help! She worked through the flow of this chapter and gave me some great ideas.**

 **I have another reading suggestion for those who may not be aware of the story. "Love, Labour, and Loss" by CrystalCuCu-Mariarty is a wonderful tale of a young Dhampir named Janine Hathaway, freshly graduated and a Moroi man, named Ibrahim Mazur. Follow them on this fantastical tale of friendship, adventure, and love. Really, go read it. It's quite good.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns the VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Friends and Enemies**

The older man sat in a large, high back chair, one which resembled a throne. The red velvet upholstery was covered in ornate gold embellishments. The frame of the chair, including the arms and legs, were plated in twenty-four-carat gold. The top of the chair rose up into golden clenched fists connected by gold manacles, the symbol of The Revolutionary Front. He sipped from a delicate china cup as he listened to his lieutenant's updates. He was beginning to zone out when the phone resting upon the similarly lavish side table rang. His cold eyes and steely glance silenced the minion's ramblings immediately. Setting the cup onto the saucer, he picked up the phone, answering brusquely, "Tell me."

"We've moved the item to a safe location. There's no way the CIA or Interpol will be able to track it down."

Hanging up, he set the phone back down before picking up the teacup once again, his lips twisting into a malevolent smile.

* * *

Rose awoke Saturday morning, nerves rattling her bones. She would be meeting with Abe later. He would be flying into a local airport in Manassas. She still had no idea how he was able to bypass customs or the TSA.

Climbing out of bed, she put on her running shorts and sports bar. She figured she could at least get in a good workout before she headed out for her possible execution. Grabbing her headset, she picked up her keys and went down to the gym. Finding it empty, she picked a nearby treadmill. Starting at a slow pace, she slipped her headphones on and cranked up her playlist. As Macklemore and Ryan Lewis' 'Can't Hold Us' blasted, she picked up the pace, finding her rhythm.

She ran for about an hour, before reducing her speed to a slow walk, letting her burning muscles recover. Powering it down after a few minutes, she stepped off the treadmill and started stretching. Once her limbs were loose, she moved over to the punching bag she had installed after she had moved in. It had been a battle with the management office, but they had finally acquiesced when she had donated some other workout equipment. Wrapping her hands, she started her standard combination: right uppercut, left uppercut, right jab. She then transitioned into a right uppercut with a left hook, twice. In between, she threw in a couple of roundhouse kicks for good measure.

After another hour of bag work, Rose, sweating profusely, hauled her spent body up the elevator back to her apartment. Once inside, she walked to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. Guzzling the first, Rose pulled out a second as she made her way to the bathroom. Stripping off the sweaty garments, she stepped into the shower, turning it to its hottest setting. Sighing in comfort, Rose let the scalding water soothe her overtaxed muscles. While she knew she might be sore later, the workout had eased some, but not all, of the tension she had acquired over the last few weeks.

After bathing and washing her hair, she dried off, opting to let her hair air dry. Running a comb through it, she left it down while she changed into her jeans and a black t-shirt. Pulling on her boots, she walked to the office, powering on the computer. While it came up, she went to the kitchen and pulled two chocolate donuts from the box on the counter. Grabbing another bottle of water, she walked back to the office and logged into her CIA account. Browsing through her emails, she responded to a couple before turning it off. Popping the last bite of doughnut into her mouth, she pulled out her phone, dialing Adrian's number.

"Hey, little cat," he said.

"Hey, Adrian. Did Abe make it out okay?"

"Yup. He's headed your way. Should arrive on time."

"So, what's your gut say? Should I make sure my will is up to date?" she asked.

Adrian chuckled, "Hard to say with Abe, but I'd say you're probably safe. We ran everything from our end. He's not particularly happy with Mia, however."

Rose stiffened. She knew firsthand how Abe dealt with failure. "Why?"

Sighing, he replied, "Apparently she missed something when she made the video loop at the museum. It's how Interpol was able to figure it out so quickly."

"Please tell me she's still alive," Rose whispered.

"She's vertical and breathing, Lilly. Luckily for her, this is her first mistake. Plus, I think the old man has a soft spot for her." Lowering his voice, he said, "Just don't tell Abe I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me."

* * *

Rose stood nervously next to her car. She was standing outside the hanger at the Manassas Regional Airport. The small plane that carried Abe was taxing toward the building. Parked next to her car was a sleek, black sedan with tinted windows, waiting with the driver standing beside the back door.

Once the plane had stopped and cut its engines, a grounds crew member approached as the steward inside the aircraft released the door. Lowering and locking the steps into place, everyone stood back. A short minute later, Rose saw Pavel, Abe's personal bodyguard, push his broad, muscular frame through the door. Stepping out, he walked to the bottom of the stairs, cautiously scanning the area. When his eyes met hers, he smiled slightly and nodded before turning back to the plane's door. Rose had always liked Pavel. He was a man of very few words, but the ones he did impart were usually astute. Once, when Rose was frustrated over her ability to defeat him during a heated training session, Pavel had pulled her aside. "He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not will be victorious," he had told her. Rose's retort had of course been laced in sarcasm. "Got that off a Wheaties box, did you?" He had simply stared at her, his face the usual emotionless mask. "Sun Tzu," he quietly replied. She had learned a valuable lesson that day about patience.

She saw Abe step through the door next, dressed as usual like a beautiful peacock. He wore a black suit with an indigo-colored silk tie and pocket square. Waving at her and smiling, he made his way over to the car. Rose gave a slight wave in return, still uncertain in which direction their meeting might turn. She shifted on her feet a little, relieved to feel the cold steel of the Sig against her back. The Glock was nestled in the holster on her ankle.

"Lilly, my dear! How wonderful to see you. It feels like it's been too long," Abe said, pulling her into a hug.

Letting her arms lay loosely about him, she pulled back almost immediately. She felt nervous having his hands that close to her only means of defense. "Good to see you, too, sir. Good flight?"

"As good as could be expected, given the situation." Motioning to the sedan, he said, "Come, let us talk."

Glancing at Pavel, who remained as stoic as ever, she followed Abe to the back of the car, sliding in after him. Rose had to steel herself as she felt and heard the car door slam shut. Turning to look at her boss, she asked, "So, what was so critical that you had to risk coming out in the open like this?"

Abe smiled, pointing at her before replying, "That is what I've always liked about you, Lilly. You're always straight to the point." Catching her raised brows, he laughed gently before continuing, "Fine, fine. Business it is then. I would like to set up a meeting between you, I and Agent Belikov."

There had been few times that Rose had been shocked by anything she had seen or heard in time with the CIA. It went without saying she had been exposed to a lot of horrific situations. However, this had to be one of the strangest and most surreal conversations ever. Looking at him, unable to hide her incredulity, she said, "I'm sorry. I thought I heard you say you and I should meet with an agent of Interpol. You know, the one that's trying to kill or arrest me?"

"You are correct. That's exactly what I said."

"But…but…" she said, stuttering on the words. It seemed her brain had short-circuited, leaving her with an inability to form coherent sentences.

"Lilly, calm down. Let me explain, and then you can try to form a rebuttal," he said soothingly, but with a hint of humor in his voice. Giving him a hard glare, she sat silent, allowing him to continue. "As I see it, we have both the Front and Interpol gunning for you. While we can't do anything about the R.F., we can control how things play out with Interpol. If the three of us were to meet, it's possible we could clear the air and acquire Agent Belikov's aid in getting the kill order rescinded."

"So, why exactly do you believe he would be amenable to any of this?" she asked.

"Let's just say that he and I go back a few years, and I trust that he's an honorable man. He's not going to want your dead for something you didn't do. He knows you didn't shoot him, but he'll need more to take to his boss if he's to get the order removed."

"Fine, let's say he'll help get that resolved. Why on earth would he not arrest me for the crimes I have committed? I'm sorry, but I can't imagine he'd just let me walk."

"Now, now, my dear. You let me worry about that." Seeing her skepticism, he rested a hand on hers. "Trust me when I say no harm will come to you. I look out for my own."

Pulling her hand free, she ran it through her hair. Looking warily at the man, she said, "Abe, let's face it. I'm a liability now. We both know it. You're not the type of man to leave loose ends. Why shouldn't I believe that you'll eliminate me once I become an inconvenience?"

She saw his features harden, his eyes a mix of sorrow and anger. "Let's just say that, for now, you are worth more to me alive than dead. I would suggest you leave it at that."

Not sure how to take either his expression or words, she said, "Fine. I can live with that. Now, what about this meeting?"

"Well, I spoke with Agent Belikov last night. He's in D.C. at the moment. He's agreed to meet. We just have to name the time and place."

Her mind was racing. She knew that Dimitri would be meeting with Tasha on Monday morning. If all went well, she wondered whether he would be able to fool Abe into thinking he was still in the dark. If not, it could mean both their deaths. Of all the sins one could commit and earn a painful death at Abe's hand, betrayal was at the top of the list. She made a mental note to contact Tasha, once she was done meeting with Abe, to fill her on his plan. They could brainstorm as to how to work Dimitri into the operation.

"Fine. Whatever works for you both. I'm free anytime." Pausing for a moment, she then asked, "Are we still sitting on the sale of the broach?"

Nodding, he replied, "We are. I assume you have it stored away in the safety deposit box?"

"Yes, it's secure. Just waiting on your orders."

"That's my girl," he said, his expression and demeanor once again relaxed and congenial.

"Where are you staying?" she asked before sliding out of the car.

"I'll be at a friend's house in Great Falls. They're throwing a little get together on Tuesday." Pausing, his eyes lighting up, he said, "Actually, that might be a perfect opportunity for the meeting. There will be a lot of people there. If push comes to shove, you can make a break for it if things go south. If he comes alone, as I suspect he will, I doubt he'd make a scene trying to arrest or apprehend you with those many people there."

"Fine. Just text me the time and address, and I'll be there," Rose replied. "I've got to run if there's nothing else, sir."

Waving his hand dismissively, he said, "No, no, we're finished. Oh, and Lilly, the party is a formal affair, so dress appropriately."

"Of course, sir. I'll see you in a couple of days."

Abe simply waved his hand in her direction, as he was already distracted by a file on his lap he had begun to peruse. Rose opened the door and slid out. Pavel stood stoically next to the door, waiting to take her place inside. "Pavel, it's good to see you again," Rose said.

"You as well, Lilly," he replied before slipping into the backseat and closing the door.

Rose chuckled internally. He was definitely a man of few words. Striding to her car, she sat behind the driver's seat and started it before heading back to her apartment. She was supposed to pick up Lissa for an afternoon of shopping. She wanted to change and check in with Tasha before then.

* * *

Pulling into the garage, she made her way up to her apartment. Opting for casual, she quickly changed into a pair of faded skinny jeans with a burgundy layered tank top with a lattice back. She chose to leave her hair down but added a small amount of makeup. Slipping on a pair of mid-heel, brown, peep-toe sandals, she walked out of her bedroom and into the office. Turning on her computer, she logged into her CIA account once it was up. She shot off a quick email to Tasha, outlining Abe's plan. Turning off the computer once again, she grabbed her bag and keys before heading back down to her car.

Arriving at Lissa's a short time later, Rose waited patiently in front of the building, the engine running. Lissa had asked her to meet her downstairs, as the cleaning company was there. Apparently she and Christian were having a guest over that evening for dinner. Rose had chuckled when Lissa had told her they were having the house professionally cleaned. She mused their guest must be either one of Lissa's society friends or possibly Christian's boss.

As she sat waiting she let her mind drift back to when she and Lissa had met in college. Rose had been studying political science, as was Lissa. They had bonded over a heated debate in class on Kenneth Waltz's 'Man, the State, and War: A Theoretical Analysis.' Actually, their friendship had been solidified when the professor had discourteously chastised Lissa over an observation. Rose, ever brazen, had called the man a pompous ass.

Lissa had met Christian her senior year. She had interned with the congresswoman from Montana and had met Christian when he was at the Capitol. He had been called in to investigate threatening letters the Congresswoman had received. Christian had said that, for him, it was love at first sight. Lissa would often tease him, saying it had taken her longer. However, Rose knew the truth; that her best friend had fallen just as hard and just as quickly. After two years of dating, they had finally married, with Rose serving as the Maid of Honor. At the time, Rose had been on her first assignment. She had been deep undercover with a group in Asia that had been attempting to acquiring a nuclear warhead. She had arrived home from the operation with just enough time to throw on the dress and walk down the aisle.

Noticing Lissa flying out the front door, Rose leaned over, opening the passenger side door. Sliding into the seat, Lissa said, breathlessly, "Hey! Sorry, I'm late. I had to jot down a few items I need to pick up for dinner."

Rose chuckled, "No problem, Liss." Waiting until she was buckled in, Rose pulled out on to the street. "So, where to first?"

"Let's hit CityCenter. I need to get a dress for a charity event Christian and I are attending on Tuesday in Great Falls."

Rose had to keep her foot from slamming on the break. Panic levitated up into her throat as she considered the possibility of her friend's charity event and the party Abe was attending being one and the same. Worry coursed through her as she pondered the chance of her pregnant best friend being caught up in the cross-fire if things went badly. Trying to sound casual, Rose said, "Really? What charity?"

"Oh, it's for an international aid organization. They supply needed medicines and provide free medical care for refugees. Some of the board members are a bit sketchy, but Christian vetted the organization itself thoroughly and assured me it's legitimate. Still, he always gets nervous when we meet with some of them. I, myself, am never concerned, but he gets all sexy and protective." Giggling, she said, "It's led to some very steamy moments once we get home."

Rose glanced at her friend, a small smile on her lips as she took in her light blush. Most of the time Lissa was quite demure and reserved, especially around people she didn't know well. However, it always amused Rose when Lissa would become truly angry or flustered, letting the occasional 'fuck' fly from her sainted lips. "I'm sure."

They pulled into the parking garage a few moments later. Walking into the building, they decided to start at Caroline Herrera. Lissa had no trouble finding the perfect gown. It was a black silk faille gown with a strapless sweetheart neck. It was fitted through bodice and waist with ruching and a bow. The gored skirt flared at the knees. There was also a mini-train at the back. Rose had to admit it looked amazing. Lissa's style had always leaned toward icons like Audrey Hepburn. With a statement choker-style necklace and subdued earrings, she'd give Audrey a run for her money.

Rose was looking through the dresses, realizing she too would need to buy something appropriate for the party. Her problem was finding something that gave her enough room to hide her gun. She was still flipping through the rack when she heard Lissa call from across the room. "Rose! I found it!" Turning, Rose saw he holding up a beautiful faille satin draped v-neck gown in blush. It was sleeveless with dual spaghetti straps and a ruched bodice. The back dropped down into a 'v' as well. There was a slit, well above mid-thigh. "This is your dress."

She had been absolutely right – it was her dress. She smiled inside, imagining the look on Dimitri's face when he saw her in the gown. Shaking the thought aside, she said, "You're right Lissa. It is my dress." Taking it from her, she carried it back to the fitting room. Once it was on, she stepped out to show her friend. She couldn't help chuckle as Lissa squealed in delight, jumping up and down. Holding out her hands, she grabbed onto her friend's forearms. "Lissa," she shouted, in an attempt to be heard over her screaming. "You probably shouldn't jump around like that. What if the baby fell out?"

After the few seconds of shock on Lissa's face, they both burst into laughter until their eyes were moist. They nearly started up again as they took in the shocked expressions of the other shoppers and saleswomen. "You know, Rose," Lissa said, her face now stoic. "I know we didn't really ask if you'd like to be the godmother. If you feel it's too much responsibility, we'll completely understand."

Looking at Lissa, Rose could see she was sincere, and yet she knew that her friend would be gravely wounded if she refused. Taking her hand in hers, Rose said, "Liss, it's not that I don't want to be a godmother. I'm honored that you and you're pasty-ass husband chose me for the honor. Really, I am. I guess I'm just worried about how I'd balance raising your child and still be an agent. What kind of life would that be for him or her?"

Lissa's face softened. Squeezing her hand, she said, "Rose, first off, the likelihood that you'd have to raise this child is minimal. I fully expect Christian and I to be around for years to come. What I would hope is that you'll be around more often once he or she is born. I'd love for our son or daughter to spend lots of time with their 'aunty Rose.' If for some unforeseen reason, something was to happen to us both, then I think you would be a great mother."

Rose pulled her into a hug, the women laughing softly before pulling back. "Well, I think I should get out of this and then we should head to the grocery store."

Nodding, Lissa waited at the register while Rose changed into her street clothes. Hanging the gorgeous dress back up, she carried it to the front. Laying it on the counter, she reached into her purse. She was surprised when the saleswoman, while placing the dress in the garment bag said, "Oh, it's already been taken care of."

Rose turned toward her friend, trying her best to look annoyed. Lissa, looking rather sheepish, said, "Happy Birthday?"

Rolling her eyes, Rose said, "That was six months ago, Liss."

"True, but you weren't home so I couldn't give you a gift."

Sighing heavily, Rose took the bag from the woman before turning to her friend. "Thank you, Lissa." Smiling, she reached over and gave her a hug. "Next time, just get me a nice bottle of red wine, and we'll be good," she whispered into her ear. "Preferably once you're able to drink so we can share it."

Laughing, Lissa squeezed her tightly before letting her go. The two women carried their purchases to the car, laying them carefully in the back seat. Pulling out onto H Street, she drove to the grocery store. Parking, they ran in, grabbing items off Lissa's list. Loading them back in the car, they headed back down toward F Street.

Pulling up, Rose sat double parked, waiting for Lissa to exit the car. Turning to Rose, she said, "Why don't you stay for dinner? You can meet Christian's friend. He should be here in a couple of hours. You can keep me company while I make dinner."

Rose wasn't keen to meet one of Christian's work associates, especially if they were the typical bureaucrat who enjoyed regaling her with boring stories. Seeing the doe-eyed look Lissa was giving her; however, she smiled and nodded. "Fine, let me park the car, and I'll be up."

After Lissa had retrieved her bag and headed inside, Rose pulled down the street and parked the car. Walking back to the building, she took the elevator up and knocked on the door. Hearing Lissa call out for her to come in, Rose pushed open the door. Shaking her head, she locked it behind her. It still astounded her that even with an FBI agent as her husband, Lissa continued to believe in a world of unicorns and puppies. "Lissa, you seriously need to keep your door locked!" she exclaimed as she walked toward the kitchen.

"I know, I know," she replied. "Christian says the same thing all the time."

"Well, at least we agree on something for once," Rose chuckled.

"So, I'm making chicken with artichokes and mushrooms. I hope that's okay?"

Rose stomach rumbled in agreement. "Sounds great. Can I do anything to help?

"Not right now. But you can help me when we get closer by getting the orzo going. I was going to pair both with some steamed asparagus." Reaching down behind the island, she pulled a bottle of wine from the wine cooler. "Want a glass while I get this started?"

Nodding, Rose got up and pulled a wine glass down from the cupboard. Filling the glass, she moved back around the other side of the island, sitting and watching her friend prepare the chicken. "So, have you told Tasha she's going to be an aunt?" Rose asked.

"Not yet. Please don't tell her. We're having she and Ethan over for dinner next week."

Rose drew her fingers across her lips, "I swear I won't say a word." Seeing her friend's skepticism, Rose exclaimed, "Hey! Remember it's my job to keep secrets." Pointing to Lissa, she said, "You're the one who can't keep a secret!"

Laughing, Lissa nodded. "Okay, you've got me there." Looking up suddenly, she said, "Hey, I hope you don't think we didn't want you to join us for dinner? I just figured you'd be busy since you've been gone for so long. Plus, I figured you wouldn't be interested in hearing the guys talk shop for hours."

Shrugging her shoulders, Rose replied, "I've got no plans tonight. I'd love to stick around. If it gets too dull, I can always feign a national emergency."

Laughing, Lissa responded, "Great! Now get over here and help me finish this up."

Rose stepped into the kitchen, putting on the pasta. Once that was done, she prepared the asparagus. While she waited on the orzo, she took her glass of wine and walked to the bay window, studying the scene below.

* * *

The sun was setting, reflecting hues of blue, orange and red on the windows across the street. Residents were moving about, headed out for various activities. Taking a sip, she heard the click of the lock on the front door, as a key was inserted. Knowing it was Christian, Rose continued to take in the scene below. It wasn't until she also heard the deep, accented voice of their guest that she froze.

Clenching the glass tighter, Rose attempted to formulate some sort of plan to extricate herself from the house without being seen. She knew the entryway led straight back to the kitchen and living room. There was a clear line of sight from front to back. She also realized it would only be a matter of seconds before he saw her standing there. She had a brief moment of hope that he might not recognize her.

"Ah, I see you invited _her_ ," Christian said, obvious disdain in his voice. Rose knew he was kidding, but at that moment she just wanted to place a well-executed kick to his groin.

"Christian, please behave," Lissa said. "Rose, why don't you come and meet Christian's former colleague."

Squaring her shoulders, Rose turned and walked toward the three. Dimitri was facing the fridge, apparently retrieving a beer for both he and Christian. When Rose reached the kitchen, she made sure to place herself in such a way that she could make a run for the front door, if necessary.

Dimitri raised up and closed the door before turning around and handing a bottle to Christian. The next few seconds seemed to move in slow motion. As Dimitri looked up at her, his expression, which started out as genial quickly morphed into desire. That look, however, transitioned even faster into dismay and finally anger. At the same time his thoughts, feelings, and emotions played across his handsome face, he dropped the bottle he was holding and reached inside his coat. Pulling the gun out swiftly, he trained it on Rose. "Don't move," he said, his voice dark and menacing.

Rose kept her eyes locked with his; her expression neutral. She knew it wouldn't take much for him to pull the trigger. She would give him no reason to do so. It wasn't until Lissa started screaming that Rose felt eager to rush to her friend's side. However, she realized any sudden movements on her part would spell her inevitable death.

"Dimitri, what the hell are you doing?" Christian shouted as he moved around the island. Rose watched, out of the corner of her eye, as he walked to stand in front of her.

"Christian, she's a wanted fugitive. Get out of the way," he ordered.

"What the hell are you talking about? Wanted for what?" Christian asked.

"This _woman_ is wanted by Interpol for numerous crimes, including, but not limited to, burglary, breaking and entering, dealing in stolen goods, and attempted murder."

Not being able to stay quiet any longer, Rose said, "I take exception to the last one. I had nothing to do with you getting shot."

Christian whipped his head around, his eyes wide. "You're the one who shot Dimitri?" he asked, the pitch of his voice rising as if he had just sucked in a balloon full of helium.

Rolling her eyes, Rose said, "No, like I just said. I had nothing to do with that."

"You might not have pulled the trigger, but unless you can offer some sort of proof, we can only assume you were working with Spiridon," Dimitri replied, his eyes and weapon still trained on her.

"Okay, this is nuts!" Looking back at Dimitri, Christian said, "I don't know who you think Rose is, but she's not a criminal. Okay, she may break the speed limit sometimes, and I'm not sure she understands what a stop sign means, but that's no reason to arrest or even shoot her!"

"She is Le Chat; number one on Interpol's most wanted list. Recently involved in the theft of the Star of Paris from the Louvre," Dimitri replied.

Christian scoffed. "Okay, this is just a huge misunderstanding! Rose is with the C…"

"Christian!" Rose shouted, effectively cutting him off. "No!"

She could see Dimitri shift his gaze back and forth rapidly between her and Christian. She knew he was trying to decipher what it was Christian had been about to reveal. Even though he would know soon enough her real identity, she didn't feel that it was the right place or time. Especially given the fact that her mission was top secret. Her eyes flew to Dimitri as she heard him pull back on the gun's hammer.

"Damn it, Rose! Tell him!" Christian yelled.

Glancing quickly to Lissa and Christian, she finally settled back on Dimitri. Closing her eyes for a second, she opened them before heaving a sigh. "Fine. My name is Rose Hathaway. I'm a covert agent for the CIA. I work for your friend, Associate Deputy Director Tasha Ozera."


	10. Chapter 10: Rock and Hard Place

**Thank you so much for all the reviews! Thank you also for the favorites and follows. So glad you're enjoying it.**

 **So, here it is. For those who prefer not to read lemon scenes, I've marked it in the chapter so you can bypass it.**

 **TRANSLATION: Ты самый красивый – You're the most handsome**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns all the VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Rock and Hard Place**

Dimitri stood in his friend's kitchen, his eyes agape. He felt a hundred different emotions course through him at her words: I'm a covert agent with the CIA. His eyes darted between the woman in front of him called Rose and his friend. He looked back at his nemesis, searching for any sign of deceit. Slowly, he decocked the hammer before holstering the gun. "Explain. Now," he said, his voice hard as steel.

Her saw Rose glance toward Christian and Lissa, her eyes softening. Looking back at him, her eyes held none of the warmth. "Fine, but not here," she said, nodding toward the couple.

He glanced at Christian, who had his arms wrapped protectively around Lissa. If the situation weren't so tenuous, he might outright laugh at the deer in the headlights look the two possessed. Sighing, Dimitri said, "I'm sorry, you two. I'm going to need to take a rain check on dinner." He looked back at Rose. "It would seem I've got other plans."

"Rose, what the hell is going on?" Lissa said, coming around the island.

Rose grabbed Lissa's arms, pulling her into a hug. "It'll be okay, Liss." She pulled back and looked toward Dimitri. "Agent Belikov and I just need to have a nice long chat." Turning back to her friend, she said, "It goes without saying that you can't discuss what happened here tonight with anyone, right?" She looked at Christian as well. He nodded as he moved around and placed his arm around Lissa.

"Don't worry, Rose. We'll be fine," he said. Looking toward Dimitri for a moment, he turned his attention back to Rose. "He's a good man, Rose."

Rose nodded while rubbing her hand along Lissa's arm in comfort. "I'll call you tomorrow, Liss."

"You better," she said, her voice filled with an odd combination of trepidation and insistence.

Smiling at her friends, she made her way toward Dimitri. He eyed her closely, still unsure whether she could be trusted. She smirked at him before saying, "Your place, or mine?"

"We'll talk about it outside. Let's go," Dimitri said commandingly.

Making her way around his massive frame, she walked to the door. Their hands met when they both reach for the doorknob. Just like in Paris, the moment their skin met, it sent a humming through his fingers and up his arm. Warmth spread through him, bringing up feelings and sensations he had been trying to repress ever since. He took notice when she yanked her had away and wondered if she felt the same thing. Twisting the handle, he held the door open while she walked ahead. Closing it behind them, they walked in complete silence to the elevator. He kept his eyes on her the entire way, afraid if he looked away she would vanish. Seeing her up close now, he was slightly amused that his first instinct had been right. When he had met her as Catharine, he had felt something was off. This was the real woman, he thought, as he took in her long dark hair and brown, almond-shaped eyes.

Once inside, Dimitri stood facing forward and asked, "Where do you live?"

"McLean. Near Langley," she said.

"Too far. I'm at the Sofitel in town." Turning to look down at her, he said, "Can I trust you to drive us there? I heard Christian mention something about traffic violations?"

As furious and confused as he was at that moment, he had to stifle a laugh when he saw her roll her eyes. "You run one little stop sign, and you're marked for life."

Suppressing a grin, he merely looked straight ahead. Damn it if she wasn't a smartass. Even worse – he liked it. "A simple yes would have sufficed."

Exiting the elevator, they made their way down the street. Dimitri's eyebrow rose as Rose stepped up to the driver's side of a slick black Dodge Charger. Well, shit, he thought. Not only was the woman the most beautiful creature Dimitri had ever met, but she also had great taste in cars. He knew if he didn't find a serious flaw in her somewhere he was going to be in real trouble.

Rose opened the door, and Dimitri saw her reaching across to the push the passenger side seat back. Hearing the click of the lock, he lifted the handle and slid into the plush leather seat. Inhaling deeply, Dimitri relished in the smell of the upholstery. He was surprised to find that it still had the new car smell.

He heard Rose chuckle next to him as she put on her seatbelt. "I take it you approve?" she asked while starting up the car.

He felt the engine rumble through the seats as he rubbed his hand across the dashboard. He couldn't help the smile that rose to his lips. "How can you tell?" he asked, chuckling lowly.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're pawing at the dash like it's your lover?" Pausing, she said, "And watch it with the fingerprints."

Pulling his hand away quickly, he merely grinned. "I've never had complaints, and I was caressing it, not pawing." Turning in the seat to look at her, he grew serious. "So, the CIA, huh?"

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Looking out the windshield again, she replied, "Can we not do this now? I really need to concentrate. Driving in D.C. is a bitch."

He turned to look back out the front. "Sure."

They arrived fifteen minutes later, pulling up in front of the hotel. Stepping out of the car, Rose handed the valet the keys. Dimitri led her into the hotel and to the elevators. The brief ride to his floor was filled with tension and anticipation. He was both excited and nervous about what the woman beside him would reveal.

Exiting the elevator once the doors opened, he led them to his room. Sliding in the key card, he pushed open the door, letting Rose walk in ahead. Allowing it to close behind him, he tossed the keycard on the nearby table. Sliding off his jacket, Dimitri unhooked the holster and set it down on the table. "Drink?" he asked, as he headed toward the mini-bar.

"Whiskey, if you've got it."

He looked up to find her standing at the window that looked out over 15th Street. Opening the door to the fridge, he perused the selections. He pulled out a mini bottle of Jack Daniels, along with a small bottle of Grey Goose. Closing the door, he stood and poured the contents of each into two glasses. Picking them up, he walked over to where she stood. Looking down at her, he handed her the glass. She was looking up at him, a mix of resignation and something else shadowing her eyes. Giving him a tired smile, she said, "Thanks."

He tapped his glass lightly against hers. "Za vstrechi," he said before taking a sip. The burning balm of the vodka sailed its way down his throat, coating him with a bit of liquid courage.

"Cheers," she said, before downing the entire glass of amber liquid. Looking back up at him, she wiggled the glass. "Got any more?"

Chuckling, he took the now empty glass and walked back to the fridge. Pulling out another bottle, he was about to pour it into the glass when Rose swiped it from his hand. Wresting the lid off, she tossed her head back, finishing off the contents quickly. "So, I take it this isn't going to be pretty?" he asked, trying to hide the humor from his voice.

Setting the now empty bottle down, she shook her head. "Not in the least."

Taking another sip, he walked around and stood at the window again, looking out at the street. He felt the adrenaline coursing through his body as he struggled to let Rose start. He felt her move beside him before he saw her. "So, do you want the long version or the cliff notes?"

"I want to know everything," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the scene outside the window.

He heard her sigh heavily. "Fine. I was in my senior year of college when my mother died. At first, I was told it was a car accident. As far as I knew, she was an analyst with the CIA. She traveled a lot, so an accident seemed plausible. At her funeral, Tasha approached me. She took me to her office at Langley and told me about my mother. Tasha told me my mother had been a covert CIA agent and that she was killed by a suicide bomber. She also told me that it was The Revolutionary Front that organized the bombing. They had specifically targeted her. Tasha then asked me if I wanted to help put an end to their organization. I signed up that very day."

Dimitri stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye. Even in the dim light, he could see the pain and anguish she still held over her mother's murder. He stood still, taking another sip of the vodka, and waited for her to continue.

"I got my degree and then began my training. A couple of years later, I went on my first mission, along with my partner, Mason Ashford. We work well together and have done a lot of good over the years. Our primary assignment has been the infiltration and identification of the leader of the R.F."

Turning slightly to look at her, he said, "So, to get close to a criminal organization, you had to become part of one," he said.

Glancing up at him, she nodded. "The Agency gave me a new identity." She reached out her hand and waited for Dimitri to grasp it with his own. "Lilly Michaels, nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand. Dimitri chuckled, causing Rose to inquire, "What's so funny?"

"Who chose your name? Obviously someone with a flower fetish," he said, smiling.

Rose chuckled, "Yeah, I think it was Mason. He'd never admit it, but it's something he would pull." He saw her look down at their still joined hands. Pulling hers free, she ran it through her hair before continuing. "Anyway, Lilly was a petty thief who was nearly arrested but was able to escape being captured. Enter one Ibrahim Mazur. Abe offered to keep me, or rather, Lilly, out of prison in exchange for working for him. Between my training with the Agency and his training, I became Le Chat. The world's best jewel thief." He winced, as he recalled how many times she had eluded capture, at his hands. Even knowing now her extensive government training, he still couldn't shake the bitterness over his failure. As if sensing this, she said, "You came close so many times." He rolled his eyes, as she chuckled. "I'm sorry, by the way, for the stunt in Germany."

"Yeah? Well, one of these days you're going to have to tell me how you did that?" he replied.

"Sorry, trade secret and also highly classified." Leaning into him, she whispered, "If I did tell you, I'd have to kill you."

Leaning down toward her, their faces only inches from one another, he whispered back, "I'd like to see you try." He could see her pupils dilate as her breathing picked up slightly. As he inhaled sharply, the scent of her wafted through his nose, setting his insides afire. It took every ounce of self-control to not reach out and pulled her into his chest. Her lips, the ones he had tasted and relished, were as succulent and enticing as ever.

"I think I need another drink," she said, stepping back a little, all emotion fading from her expression.

Smirking, he raised an eyebrow before turning and walking back to the bar. Opening it, he peered at the contents. "We're out of whiskey. I'll call down for a bottle," he said, walking to the phone. After placing the order, including a bottle of Russian Standard, he refilled his glass with the remaining bottle of Grey Goose. Taking a sip, he walked back to the window. He handed her his drink, trying to impart some invisible courage for her to continue.

"Mason gives me tech that I implant on the jewels I steal. This way we can track the buyers and hope they lead us to the R.F. Most of the people who I'm stealing for have some sort of affiliation with the group."

"How close are you?" he asked.

She shook her head, sighing. "No closer, I think, than the day we started. The bastard always seems to be one step ahead. We've been able to tighten their purse strings, but it hasn't seemed to make a significant dent in their operations."

"Room service," a voice uttered after a quick rap to the door.

Dimitri strode over and cracked it open. Taking the bottles from the man, he slipped him a couple of dollars before closing the door. Walking to the bar, Dimitri opened both bottles and poured the contents into their respective glasses. Carrying them back to the window, he handed Rose the glass of whiskey. "Thanks," she said before taking a large gulp.

"So, what happened in Paris?" he asked.

Rose rubbed her hand against the back of her neck she was twisting back and forth. "You mean besides you?"

Chuckling, he said, "Yeah. We know the man that shot me was a mercenary, and that you, or rather Le Chat, had a meeting with him in London." Seeing her raised eyebrows, he retorted, "What?"

"Nothing," she said, smiling. "I mean, I'm just surprised. You seem to know a lot already."

Snorting, he replied, "The CIA isn't the only intelligence agency on the plant that knows how to do its job."

"As Christian loves to remind me," Rose muttered.

"Let me guess? FBI rules and CIA drools?"

Her outright laughter caught him off guard, yet he found himself fully enamored with the sound. "Exactly," she said. Walking to the bar, she poured herself another glass before walking back to the window. Taking another large swig from the glass, her tone turned serious once again. "So, Spiridon, or Mr. S. as he was called, was the go-between for a sheik who was buying the Sonsuzluk necklace. The transaction went off as planned. However, he got a little 'handsy,' and I had to put him in his place. He didn't take too kindly to that."

Dimitri was taken aback but the sudden fury that welled up in him at the thought of Spiridon's hands on Rose. He knew damn well she could probably take care of herself, but just the idea of another man touching her like that caused him to clench and unclench his fists repeatedly. "Is that why he was in Paris?" he ground out.

"No. Apparently the leader of the R.F. has finally figured out that Le Chat is the common denominator when it comes to his lack of funding." Sighing, she said, "I was hoping we'd have more intel by now, or that we'd have longer to get him before he caught on. Anyway, he's got a bounty on my head, or rather Le Chat's. Spiridon was there to collect, although I think he was enjoying it a bit too much."

"I recall seeing you in the street. You were talking to Spiridon. You shouted at me to get down." Looking down at her, he said, "After that, I don't remember anything until I woke up in the hospital."

Take another large gulp, she replied, "He was basically telling me he was going to kill me. When he saw you, however, I realized he was going to shoot you too. Before I could get to you, he fired, and you went down." Finishing off the rest of the whiskey in her glass, she continued, "I grabbed your gun and shot him before he could finish off either of us."

"And then you called Agent Prinz," he said.

She nodded. "I knew your wound wasn't life-threatening, but you could have bled out if they didn't get to you." Looking back up at him, her eyes filled with remorse, she said, "I just couldn't leave you there to die in the street."

They stood there for what seemed like several minutes, holding each other's gaze. "Thank you," Dimitri whispered.

Unable to tear her eyes from his, she whispered back, "You're welcome."

He moved slightly closer to Rose as if pulled by some imaginary force. "The kiss," he said, his eyes drifting down to her sensuous lips. Licking his own, he looked back into her eyes. He was pleased to see the same desire emanating from them that he was sure filled his own. "Was it part of the job?"

He saw her step ever so slightly closer, her own eyes falling to his lips. He could see her throat working as she swallowed heavily before replying, "No."

Lowering his head closer, he looked at her mouth, desperate to see if it tasted just as good the second time. With just a hair's breadth between them, he asked again, "No?"

"No," she breathed out, barely getting it out before their mouths crashed against one another. Dimitri barely registered the thud of the glasses hitting the carpet as their hands set to clawing at one another in desperation. His right hand was cupping the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in the hair at her nape. His lips and tongue were battling hers for dominance, eager to consume. His other hand had slid to her lower back, pulling her tightly against him. A shot of pain radiated out from the gunshot wound, stealing his breath momentarily. However, feeling her firm but supple body pressed against him forced out a deep guttural groan of pleasure. Her hands had moved up and were now clasping his head, trying to eradicate any space between them. She was running her tongue along his, in between nipping at his lips.

 _ **-BEGIN M SCENE-**_

With his self-control was almost blown, he ground his hips against her, desperate to release the pressure that was building. Even though he was nearly overwhelmed with desire and want, his brain registered the fact that it wasn't just a sexual want he was feeling. Having her in his embrace, breathing in her distinct scent, he had the overwhelming need to never let her out of his arms. His knees nearly buckled as the thought came rushing to the forefront of his mind – mine.

As the panic began to well up within him, he was about to release his hold when she ground against him. That, along with the what she was doing to his neck, eradicated any momentary concerns. Pulling back, he looked into her lust-filled eyes. "This is a terrible idea," he said before attacking her neck with light bites and kisses.

She threw her head back and to the side, giving him better access. In doing so, she pressed up against his erection, sliding up and down. "A disaster in the making," she moaned. She pulled herself back up and released him. Reaching down, she crossed her arms, pulling the blouse over her head and tossing across the room. Her hands moved around, sliding up his back.

His eyes widened as he took in her bare, perfect breasts, pert and high. Her tawny nipples were taut and begging to be suckled. Looking deeply into her eyes, he asked, "How drunk are you?"

Gazing at him seductively, she replied, "I'm sober enough to know better but drunk enough not to care." With that, she captured his lips in a burning, heated kiss. Moaning, he slid his hand up the smooth, silky skin of her side. His fingers ghosted over her, causing her to shiver, leaving small bumps in his wake. Reaching the smooth underside of one breast, he squeezed it gently, rubbing his thumb across the hardened nipple. He smiled into the kiss as she let out a gasp. He felt her hands move around to the front as she reached between them to grasp the hem of his Henley. "Off," she commanded as she tugged.

He reached down, grasping at the hem, allowing her to help him lift the shirt up and over his head. He suppressed a wince, as he felt another tinge of pain at his shoulder at the brusqueness of removing his shirt, though this time it was considerably less. Letting his shirt drop to the floor, his hands found their way to her back, caressing the skin while her breast pressed tightly against his now bare chest. Her own hands were wandering across his back, her fingers tracing the muscular planes. Her lips and tongue were dancing across his skins, igniting a trail of desire.

He turned and walked her backward toward the bed. Kneeling in front of her, he grabbed one leg and then the next, pulling off her shoes. Looking up his eyes drank her in; dark, silken hair curtaining her face, bare skin flushed in desire, and smooth, tawny skin, yearning to be tasted. As her hands moved to remove her jeans, his own stayed the movement. Brushing away her hands, he gripped her hips before latching once again onto her supple breast. He nipped and tugged at her straining nipple while his other hand massaged and kneaded its twin. Looking up, he smiled against her skin as he saw her head thrown back, panting in ecstasy. Moving his hands down her stomach, he ripped at the button and zipper, grabbing at the material and wrenching it down. Her hands reached for his shoulders as he lifted one leg, and then the other, pulling off the offending material. Sitting back slightly he took her in, relishing in the curves and edges of her body. "So damn beautiful," he mumbled.

He saw her smirk as she pulled him to stand before her. Reaching out with her small hands, she made quick work of his own pants, shoving both them and his boxers down his legs. Sitting back on the edge of the bed, he watched as she raked her eyes up and down his body. "Ты самый красивый," she whispered.

Growling, he hauled her up further onto the bed, climbing up over her as he claimed her mouth in another searing kiss. He leaned forward as she pulled him back, her hands at the nape of his neck. Hovering over her exquisite body, he moved from her mouth to trail hot, wet kisses down her throat and chest. Reaching one breast, he nibbled and licked until he reached the tight bud begging to be lavished. Pulling it between his lips, he let his tongue glide roughly over it, while one of his hands massaged and tweaked its mate. He smiled into her warm skin as she arched, crying out. Her hands were in his hair, raking and tugging him closer.

Releasing the one nipple, he moved his mouth to the other, bestowing the same attention to it while his hand trailed down her body. Sliding it down her thigh, he brought it back underneath, opening her up. Moving lower down the bed, he nibbled and bit along her stomach before placing soft, soothing kisses in their wake. He heard her whimper and pant as he slid a single finger along the smooth piece of material between her legs. He felt himself harden as he realized how wet she was already. Grasping at the cloth around her hips, he tugged it slowly down, tossing it to the side when they were free.

Kissing and licking at the skin as he moved up her legs, he massaged and kneaded the rounded, muscular limbs along the way. The scent and taste of her was a heady mix of sex and spice, urging him back to her waiting lips. Taking them between his own, he savored the flavors that were uniquely hers while sliding his palms against her heated sex. Slipping first one, and then a second finger inside the beckoning heat, he rejoiced in the feel of her clenched around him. Growling softly, he slid his fingers inside while he kept the heel of his hand massaging that sweet bundle of nerves.

She was panting against his mouth, mewling in pleasure as he found the spot he knew would break her apart. Turning her head, she pulled at the hand that was currently preoccupied with one of her luscious breasts, drawing two of his fingers into her mouth. Rolling her tongue around them, she smiled wickedly as she mimicked what he knew she was eager to duplicate to his hardened member. Groaning, he increased the thrusts of his fingers, craving the release he knew was reaching its crescendo.

"Please," she gasped, releasing his hand as she reached down to grasp at him. He shifted slightly, moving out of her reach, eager to watch her come undone without distraction. Her one arm was pinned under him to one side. With his free hand, he grasped the other one that was currently free and held it above her head. Her whimpers and moans were louder, her chest heaving as she panted out her lust.

Knowing she was close, he moved his head to the breast closest to him and latched onto the hardened and straining nipple. Sucking hard before pulling with his teeth, he felt her clench around him. Looking up, he saw her head thrown back; her mouth opened in a soundless cry. Her back was arched and bowing, as well, almost pushing Dimitri over the edge. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything as incredibly sexy as Rose coming apart around him. He felt the surging in his groin as images of her coming around him while buried inside floated through his mind.

He worked her a little bit longer, slowing his movements to help keep the tension ever present. Shifting over her, he started to move into her when a sudden moment of clarity hit. Resting his head into the crook of his neck, he groaned. "Shit," he mumbled into her skin.

Still breathless, she turned her head toward his. "What?" she asked, pulling her hand free to stroke his back.

"I didn't exactly plan on this." Turning his face to look into her eyes, he explained further, "No condoms."

"Purse," she said breathlessly. Grinning like a kid at Christmas, Dimitri rose quickly and grabbed the small bag off the counter. Walking back over, he handed it to her. He watched as she furiously dug through the contents. "Ah hah!" she said, pulling out the prize. Chuckling, he pulled the foiled package from her hand and ripped it open. Before he could move to place it, her hand reached out to stay his movement. "I want to," she said provocatively.

Sitting back, he watched as she pulled herself into a seated position. Reaching her hand out, she wrapped her fingers around his long, hard girth. He hissed in a breath, relishing in her touch. Rubbing her thumb over the tip briefly, she placed the unrolled sheath into her mouth and lowered her head. Dimitri inhaled sharply as he felt her mouth sink over him. The sensation of her teeth gently gliding along the shaft sent tremors through his body. He groaned again as he felt himself at the back of her throat before she pulled her head back up and released him.

"Best application of a condom ever," he growled as he flipped her back onto her back before plunging into her moist heat. Once he was fully seated, he had to force himself to still. It amazed him that with her, he was like a teenager all over again; ready to lose it before he had even gotten started. She had wrapped her legs at his waist, and her hands had snaked down to his ass, her nails and fingers tugging and pulling at him. He chuckled against her neck, "Give me a minute." Pulling up to look at her, he said, "I'd really like this to last longer than a few seconds."

Smirking at him, she replied, "Baseball."

Quirking an eyebrow, he asked, "What about it?"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly before replying, "Just something I heard before. Thinking about stats or lineups."

Chuckling, Dimitri replied, "Well, since I don't follow baseball, I guess I'll have to come up with something else."

He gasped as he felt her squeeze around him, that wicked gleam in her eyes once again. Damn it if he didn't find that incredibly sexy. "Well, you better hurry up and think of something, Comrade," she said seductively as she squeezed again while shifting against him.

Capturing her lips with his own, he pulled out before slamming back in. He smirked against her lips as she let out a sharp cry of ecstasy. Working his hips, he set a slow, heavy rhythm, relishing in the feeling of her wrapped around him. Resting his forehead against hers, their breaths intermingling, he picked up the pace as she began to once again utter those sexy little cries and moans. He could feel the tightening in the base of his spine. Reaching under her shoulders, he rose up on his knees, pulling her up with him.

Her legs were still locked around his waist, as his hands moved to her sweet, luscious ass. Grasping it, he sat back on his heels, helping her to ride him. He could tell by the louder mewls she was making that she was once again close. Panting in his ear, she said, "Faster…harder…"

Grunting in pleasure, he promptly obeyed, slamming into her with a punishing pace. Reaching between them with one hand, he found the tiny bundle buried beneath the dark brown curls. Rubbing it lightly, he felt her slide over the cliff, screaming his name into his neck. "Roza!" he cried, as her own name fell from his lips as he felt his own explosion after a few more thrusts.

 _ **-END M SCENE-**_

Once the spams had subsided, he lowered her back onto the bed, following her down. Rolling off, he lay on his back, breathing heavily. Sleep was already claiming him, as he struggled to stay awake. Throwing an arm across his eyes, he tried to push away the urge to pull her against him. He wasn't one to cuddle with a woman after sex. Even Keren had understood, having been of the same mind. Raising his arm, he glanced over at the woman beside him, expecting her to be looking at him expectantly. Dimitri almost had to chuckle as he saw her in a similar position, seemingly already asleep. Trying not to disturb her, he stood from the bed and walked to the closet. Opening it, Dimitri pulled a blanket from inside and walked back to the bed. Climbing back on top, he unfolded it and lay it over both their sweat-slicked bodies. Giving her one more lingering gaze, he stretched out, letting sleep claim him.

* * *

The shadows obscured the figure crouched on the roof as they slowly stood. Removing the telephoto lens, they placed it back into the case. Flipping a switch on the camera, they slowly reviewed the images, a predatory grin growing as they took in the salacious photos. The man almost pitied the other man in the pictures.


	11. Chapter 11: Awkward Conversations

**Thank you for your kind reviews, as well as the favorites and follows. I forgot to mention in the previous chapter's A/N a huge thank you to Swimming and Lea0014 for their assistance with Chapter 10. You ladies rock!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns the VA stuff.**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Awkward Conversations**

The blare of a car horn jolted Rose from her slumber. Slowly looking around, she took in her surroundings through dry and, most likely, bloodshot eyes. Tilting her head up, she found Dimitri lying flat on his back, one arm under her, while the other lay across her hip. Her head was resting on his chest as her arm lay across his stomach. Tensing, she slowly tried to extricate herself from his grip. Observing him, she eased his hand off her body before setting it gently on his stomach. Rising up, she quietly slipped off the bed and began gathering her clothes. Quickly pulling them on, she hunted for her purse before slinking to the hotel room door. Stopping short, she realized it might be wise to leave him some sort of note. While he now knew the truth, she wasn't entirely sure he was ready to trust her completely. To avoid having him hunt her down, she grabbed the pen off the nearby desk, scribbling a quick note on the hotel notepad.

Walking back to the door, she slowly turned the handle. She glanced back at Dimitri's resting form. The blanket he had tossed over them the night before was now just barely covering him. She smiled slightly as she took in his handsome face and Adonis-like body. As her gaze fell to the circular scar on his chest, red and raw, she felt a clench in her chest. Even though she hadn't pulled the trigger, a part of her still shouldered the blame. Shaking her head slightly, she pulled open the door and slipped out into the hallway.

Once she was outside the hotel, Rose handed the valet the stub for her car and waited patiently. As she stood there, she pulled out her phones, checking for any messages. Rose frowned as she saw several missed calls from Tasha and Lissa, as well as a rather stern text from Tasha, instructing her to call her on her personal line. Rose realized that could only mean one thing – she had talked to Christian. Rose pocketed her phones into her bag as the valet arrived with her car. Giving him a generous tip, she slid into the driver's seat and headed home.

As it was an early Sunday morning, she was able to avoid any traffic, so the trip only took about fifteen minutes. Pulling into the garage, she made her way upstairs. Heading to her bedroom, she shed her shoes and clothes before turning on the shower. Stepping underneath the hot water, she let it wash over her, cleansing her of her sins. It wasn't that she regretted having sex with Dimitri. No, she thought smirking, she definitely didn't regret that. No, her crime was that she had felt things while they had been together. Things she knew would only distract her from her mission – her goal. There was no room in her life for relationships or romantic entanglements, no matter how great they were in bed.

Finishing up, she stepped out of the shower and dried off quickly. Brushing her teeth and running a comb through her hair, she walked out into her bedroom. She pulled out her underclothes as well as a pair of leggings and t-shirt, getting dressed quickly. She had no plans for the day, although after she spoke with Tasha, Rose wasn't quite sure what she'd be doing. Padding back into the living room, she stopped by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and some Tylenol from the cupboard. While she'd had worse hangovers, this one would need some assistance to relieve. Popping a couple into her mouth, Rose swallowed some of the water to wash them down.

Just as she was about to step into her office to call her boss, the phone rang and vibrated in her hand. Looking at the screen, she grimaced. Swiping at it, she answered, "Hey, Lissa."

"There you are! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" she yelled.

Pulling the phone away, she waited for her friend to quiet down before resting it back against her ear. "Lissa, I'm sorry. I should have called. I got…preoccupied last night."

"Are you okay? Did Dimitri arrest you?" she asked, fear lacing her words.

Rose snorted. "Please, like he could. No, Lissa. Dimitri and I just…talked," she explained. Rose silently pondered why she was hesitant to tell her best friend about the night she had spent with Dimitri. Outside of her work, Rose kept no secrets from Lissa. Yet, somehow she felt the need to conceal another part of her life.

Rose heard her friend's heavy sigh. "Look, Rose, I know you can't talk about your work. I also know I shouldn't have heard half of what I did last night. I just need to know that you're okay. Don't ever scare me like that again!"

Guilt scrambled up her throat as Rose listened to her best friend. She knew it was unfair to expose her friend to her life – to her work. She had never intended for her friends to be involved. Now, once again, Rose had to keep secrets from those she cared about – even lie to them. "Lissa, I'm fine. Trust me. I hate to cut this short, but I've got to call my boss."

"Okay, but remember we have those spa appointments on Tuesday morning," she said, her voice once again tinged with the regal air only she could pull off. It was the tone that gave no room for argument.

"Yes, your highness," she teased.

Hanging up, she dialed Tasha's personal cell number. After the second ring, she heard the terse, but feminine voice answer, "About time, Hathaway."

"Good morning to you too, Associate Deputy Director."

"What the hell could possibly be good about it?" she barked.

Fuck, Rose thought. Apparently, she had already spoken to her nephew. Rose would have to remember to have a pointed discussion with Christian at a later date. "So, I'm guessing by the tone, you've talked to Christian," she stated.

"I did. I'm not going to even go into how many regulations you broke with that stunt last night," she ground out.

"Well, damn. I was really looking forward to hearing you regale me with a list of all my screw-ups," Rose bit back.

"Watch it, Agent Hathaway. We may be closer than most bosses and employees, but remember, I am _still_ your boss."

Sighing heavily, Rose responded, "You're right, and I apologize. It's just been a long night, and I've got a bit of a headache."

"Accepted." Her voice noticeably softer, Tasha continued, "Look, Rose, I know you couldn't have foreseen what happened last night." Rose had to stifle a laugh. _No, she really couldn't have_ , she thought. "I just need you to tell me everything that happened. This way I'll know what sort of damage control we'll need."

Rose stifled a laugh. She was sure her boss _and_ Dimitri's childhood friend would _not_ want a full accounting on the previous night's events. Running a hand through her mostly dry hair, Rose huffed as she sat in the chair. She then recounted the story of her chance meeting with Dimitri, along with the information she had passed along to him later. She made sure to leave out any details that might suggest more had occurred than a professional conversation.

"So, do you think he'll be on board with everything?" Tasha asked.

"I mean, I think so. Aren't you the better person to judge that? I mean you two are close," Rose responded.

Chuckling, Tasha replied, "Dimitri is a complicated man. His sense of honor is unquestionable. So is his sense of duty. If he feels it's what's best for the greater good, I think he'll go along. He lives by a code – the welfare of the greater society comes first. If it fits within that code, he'll do what he feels is right."

Rose nodded, more to herself. She had the same impression. "I think you're right. He seemed to understand once I explained everything." Sighing, she said, "I guess we'll find out tomorrow."

"Well, since the cat is out of the bag, pardon the pun, you might as well join us in the morning. That way we can discuss how we're going to handle Mazur and the party. We'll have to ensure that Dimitri can pull off a convincing performance."

Rose hadn't considered that aspect of the mission. Dimitri wasn't an undercover operative, and she wasn't sure he was equipped to pull off such a deception. She tried to push away the doubt that was bubbling to the surface. It was one thing to let him in on the specifics of the operation. It was something else altogether to risk so much time and effort. One slip from either of them and it could mean the end of not only her mission but also their lives. She felt a shudder course through her at the thought. "Sure. I'll see you tomorrow, then," she said before hanging up.

Tossing the phone on the desk, she walked back into the kitchen and made a quick protein shake. Walking over to the balcony, she slid open the doors and stepped outside. The sun was still low in the sky, warming the air just enough to take off the chill. Sipping the drink, Rose let her mind wander back to the previous night's events. She had been impressed with the manner in which Dimitri had taken all her revelations. He had been professional, and yet charming. She had been taken aback somewhat by his question about their kiss in Paris. He had seemed to need to know it wasn't just a ruse, and she had chosen to be completely honest with him. Kissing Dimitri had never been part of her plans. In fact, it was probably the worst thing she could have done. There was no place in her life for commitments or complications. Yet, as she thought back to how she had felt wrapped in his strong arms, she couldn't squelch the flutters that surfaced inside her. She couldn't deny the mutual attraction. Nor could she deny that they could be amazing together – both in bed and in the field.

Shaking her head as if to clear the lurid memories from the previous night, she finished the rest of the shake. Walking back inside, she set the glass in the sink. Realizing she needed to pick up some additional groceries, she slipped on her Converse shoes and grabbed her keys and purse from the table. Locking the door behind Rose took the stairs down to the garage two at a time. There was a small market near the apartment complex where she could pick a few items to tide her over until she had to go back out in the field. As she neared her car, Rose felt the uneasiness that she had come to know and trust, as she sensed a presence. Looking around, she saw no one in the vicinity.

As she hit the remote to unlock the door, she once again felt as if she were being watched. Opening the door quickly, she slipped behind the wheel, locking it behind her. Starting the car, she pulled out of the garage a few seconds later. Pulling up at the stop sign, she froze when she heard the deep, male voice emanate from the back seat. "He wants to see you – _now_."

* * *

Dimitri stepped from the shower, wincing slightly at the pain that radiated from the still healing wound. With a crooked smile, he somewhat relished the pain, remembering how the previous night's events were the cause of his current discomfort. Drying off, he slid his clothes on, easing his shirt over his head with care. Walking out of the bathroom, his eyes took in the rumpled bed. Again, he couldn't help the unbidden, but pleasant images that assaulted his mind. Dimitri had been with his fair share of women, most of them pleasurable distractions. With Rose it was different – _she_ was different. It wasn't just that she could meet his passion with just as much intensity and ferocity. Nor was it the fact that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever know. It was more – so much more. With her, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time, maybe never. It was as if he was _home_. It brought both reserved happiness, as well as a gut-wrenching fear.

Shaking off the thoughts, he walked to the bar, picking up the discarded glasses off the floor. Placing them on the bar top, he couldn't help but grin as he picked up the note she had left. He chuckled as he reread it: "You definitely had me purring. See you tomorrow. R." Folding it neatly, he stuffed into his pants pocket before picking up the hotel phone to order room service. Hanging up once he was done, he reached for his phone, checking it for missed calls or texts. He was surprised to find several missed calls from Keren. Seeing he had one text, he pulled up the message. It was from Tasha, and he smirked as he read it. "So, I guess the cat's out of the bag. Expect you promptly at nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

Powering up his computer while he waited for breakfast, he quickly checked his emails. Seeing nothing that needed his immediate attention, he called Keren's cell. Knowing it was the afternoon in Lyon, he was confident she would answer. Sure enough, on the third ring, he heard the click of the connection before he heard her lightly accented voice, "Hey, you," she said.

"Hey. Sorry I missed your calls. I was having dinner with some friends," he explained. While he couldn't say for sure, he felt hesitant about telling her about Rose or the other events that had occurred.

"No problem. I was just calling to give you an update on our mole hunt."

Dimitri stood, walking over to the window. Glancing down at the quiet street, he said, "Find anything useful?"

He heard her sigh. "Nothing that identified our traitor. However, I think I've been able to eliminate everyone on our team. I've found absolutely nothing that would tie any of them to the Front."

"Well, at least there's that piece of good news. Who will you be focusing on next?" Dimitri asked.

She hesitated for a moment before responding, "I know this could get us both fired, but I'd like to look into A.D. Croft."

Dimitri raised an eyebrow. While he knew no one was above reproach or temptation, he had honestly not even considered him as a possibility. "I agree it's risky, but I'm not sure what other choices we have." Considering all the ramifications and options, he followed up with, "Plus, if we're able to eliminate him as a suspect, that would mean we might be able to get his help in tracking down the real culprit."

"True," Keren said, dragging the word out. "However, if we were to do that, there's a strong possibility that he'd want to know how we discovered there's a mole to begin with. _That_ would open a whole other can of worms."

Dimitri sighed, shoving a hand through his damp hair. He knew Keren was right. There was no way Croft wouldn't insist on knowing how they had found out about the leak. "Well, for now, why don't you go ahead and meet with the others – off-site. Give them a rundown on what we know. If they ask, just say our intel on being infiltrated came from an anonymous source."

"Will do." Pausing, she said, "So, how's the vacation going?"

Dimitri chuckled. "Uneventful at the moment. I'm meeting with Tasha tomorrow at nine in the morning. I'll call you after to let you know if I have any further intel."

"Okay, sounds good. I'll wait to hear from you," Keren said before hanging up.

Dimitri was finishing getting dressed when his phone rang once again. Rolling his eyes, he swiped the screen, answering, "She's still breathing if that's what you're worried about."

"I know. Lissa talked to her earlier," Christian said.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. Is Lissa okay?" Dimitri asked, concerned not only for her mental well-being but also her physical one. Stress was the last thing he wanted to put upon the pregnant woman.

"She had a dying duck fit earlier, but she's better now.

Dimitri furrowed his brow as he replied, "She had a _what_ earlier?"

Christian laughed. "Sorry. My new partner is from the South. His colloquialisms are rubbing off on me, apparently. It means she was pretty angry. I wasn't sure if I should stick around and try to comfort her, or run like hell."

Dimitri chuckled, "Well, I'm sorry she was so upset. The whole thing just caught me off guard."

"Hmmm…yeah, it definitely wasn't how I saw the evening going." Pausing for a moment, Christian asked, "So can you fill me in on what the hell is going on?"

Sighing, Dimitri replied, "I wish I could, but it's become very complicated…and very classified. Let's just say that, for the moment at least, Rose and I are on the same page."

"Good. Rose is a good friend to us both, just as you are. It would be difficult, to say the least, if you two were enemies."

Dimitri couldn't help the stupid grin that formed on his face. "Well, you certainly don't have to worry about that," he said.

He heard Christian moan lowly. "Oh man, I did _not_ need to hear that!"

Chuckling again, Dimitri replied, "Relax, Christian. All I meant was is that she and I have agreed to work together on our common goal." While that was true, he was more interested in steering Christian away from inquiring about his night with Rose.

"Oh, well that's good," he said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Dimitri frowned at the implication. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Oh, come on, man. You know that you're not exactly available, and for that matter, neither is Rose. You're both in relationships with your jobs. Plus, the two of you? You both have so much baggage between you that you'd need a jumbo-jet to follow you around."

"Fuck you, Christian," Dimitri growled. While he knew Christian was correct, it didn't prevent the wince of disappointment he felt.

"No thanks. Remember, I know how many times you've dipped your wick," he said, joking.

Brushing off the comment, he said, "I've got to run. Tell Lissa I'm sorry for everything, and I'll make it up to her soon." He hung up before Christian could reply. He knew it was ridiculous, but, while Christian's comment had been meant in jest, it had hit a nerve. Dimitri had been with a lot of women. He was a healthy man with a healthy sexual appetite. Dimitri had always been careful, both with the women he chose to sleep with, as well as using protection. However, the idea of Rose knowing that he had been with so many women brought up a feeling of remorse. _How the hell had her opinion of him become so crucial to him_ , he wondered?

Setting his phone down, he was about to head back into the bathroom when there was a knock on the door. "Room Service."

Opening the door, he instantly stepped back as the burly man shoved the semi-automatic into his face. "There's someone who would like to have a word," the man rasped, his voice low and gravely.

Raising his eyebrow, Dimitri replied, "And, this requires me to be held at gunpoint?"

"No, this is just to ensure you come quietly and willingly, although the last part is totally up to you."

Nodding, Dimitri walked toward the door, as the other man sidestepped behind him. As they walked into the hall, Dimitri saw another man with a similar build standing just beside the door. Showing he carried a piece as well, they both walked behind and beside Dimitri. Taking the elevator to the lobby, they escorted him out the front into a waiting sedan. As one slid into the passenger seat, the other held open the door for Dimitri. Glancing at him briefly, he slipped inside, followed by the second man.

As the car pulled out into the nearly vacant street, Dimitri took stock of the situation. His hoped his assumption about where they were headed was correct. He was unarmed and unable to contact anyone for assistance. However, if his hypothesis was right, he hoped he wouldn't need a weapon or help. Glancing out the window, he saw they were headed toward the G.W. Parkway. After a short time, he recognized that they were headed south on the outer loop of the beltway. Looking at the man seated next to him, his gun still held firmly in front of his body, he asked, "So, any chance you're going to tell me where we're headed?"

Seeing the man's expression remain stoic, Dimitri sighed before turning to look back at the scenery as it whizzed by the car. Ten minutes later, they exited the beltway and headed down highway. Dimitri continued to try to elicit some sort of response from the other passenger. Finding him unwilling to proffer any details, he sat back in the seat and worked to formulate a plan of escape.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, they seemed to arrive at their destination, pulling to a stop in front of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. After the driver pulled to a halt, he stepped out and opened the car door closest to Dimitri. Looking back at the man in the backseat next to him, he saw him wave the gun, indicating he should exit the car. Once he was standing outside the vehicle, he quickly scanned the area. Up until this point, Dimitri had been content to see the abduction through, confident he could affect some sort of escape plan. However, his eyes quickly lit upon the black car parked next to them. He recognized it easily – Roza. Clenching his fists, Dimitri moved to follow the man in front of him as he was herded up a ramp. The man in front banged twice on the metal door that quickly raised up and opened. The man behind him nudged Dimitri in the back, still remaining silent, and indicated he should continue walking.

As the trio moved further into the empty warehouse, Dimitri could make out several figures deeper inside. His gut knotted as he recognized the woman seated ahead. Although her back was to him, Dimitri could make out the distinct long, dark hair and shapely figure. As they approached the group, he observed her hands were tied behind her back. Dimitri felt the inferno growing in him as he took in the sight.

The man behind him shoved him past Rose, and Dimitri heard her gasp as he moved to stand in front of her. Two of the men came up behind Dimitri and roughly pulled his hands behind his back, while a third held a gun at his face. Glaring at the man, he allowed himself to be bound, before being released.

* * *

It was the sound of a door opening and then banging shut with a resounding echo, that had Rose turning to look behind her. She breathed a small sigh of relief. It was momentary, for as the men came closer, Rose could see a rage burning beneath the older man's stone façade.

"Everyone out!" Abe shouted.

The other men looked at one another quickly before moving toward the doors. Silence filled the space, save for the echoes of men's footsteps as they exited the building. Once the door slammed shut, Rose watched as Abe and Pavel moved toward a nearby table. Tossing what appeared to be a folder on it, Abe leaned against the worn, plastic surface, his head bowed.

Turning, he looked past Dimitri and straight at the bound, seated figure of Rose. She saw his features harden, as he glanced to Pavel. "What is she doing here?" he asked, nodding in her direction.

Pavel replied, "They misunderstood. Based on those," he said, nodding toward the open folder, "they thought you wanted them both here."

"Get her the hell out of here," he said, nodding in Rose's direction.

"Abe, what the hell is going on?" Rose growled as she watched Pavel move to undo her bindings.

"Not now!" Abe shouted. "We'll talk later." Turning to Dimitri, he said, "Right now, Agent Belikov and I have some things to discuss." The tone in his voice alluded to a discussion that would not end well for Dimitri.

Standing, once she was freed, Rose stalked over to her boss. Rose glanced at Dimitri from the corner of her eye. She swore she saw a look of both respect and concern as he watched her. Suddenly, she was standing toe to toe with the mobster, their faces inches apart. "I'm not going anywhere, old man. Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on?" she said, nearly shouting.

Abe grabbed her shoulders. Glancing sideways, she saw Dimitri starting to move toward them. It was only the flash of Pavel's weapon and a slight move toward Dimitri that kept him in place. Instead, she heard Dimitri growl, "Let her go."

Dropping his hands, Abe moved toward Dimitri like a lion stalking its prey. "You," he said, pointing into his chest, "don't say a word." Shoving Dimitri to the table, Abe thrust his hand at the file's contents, spread out for viewing. "I trusted you to look out for her! Instead, you seduce my daughter?" he yelled.

Rose couldn't see what they were looking at, nor their faces, but if the sudden tension in Dimitri's body was any indication, it wasn't good. She stalked over toward Abe, already yelling, "What the fuck, Abe! How dare you abduct me from my own home. And, what the hell is the meaning of kidnapping an Interpol agent," she said, pointing to Dimitri. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Rosemarie, stay out of this!" Abe shouted.

It was with those words that the room suddenly fell silent. For a moment, the only sound was Rose's heavy breathing. "What did you just call me?" she whispered.

Rose saw the fight suddenly leave Abe, like a deflated balloon, as he replied, "You heard me."

"Wait," she said, as his earlier words came rushing back. "Daughter?" Abe simply sighed and nodded. Rose moved to the seat she had previously occupied, blindly searching before she sat down, her eyes focused on the floor. After a few seconds, Rose inhaled sharply before looking back up. "Explain," she said, her voice hard and monotone.

Sighing, Abe looked to the other man before saying, "Pavel, untie Agent Belikov please." Returning to the table, he gathered the photos and slid them back into the folder. Turning around, he sat on the edge before addressing Rose. "I met your mother, Janine, when she was on a mission for the CIA. I was an informant who was assigned to work with her to root out a small terror cell in Turkey. One thing led to another, and, well, we fell in love." Rose noted the look of whimsy that passed over the man's face. Growing serious again, he continued, "When she discovered she was pregnant, she returned to the States. She told me, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't want me involved in the baby's life – in your life. She feared my line of work would bring too much danger and risk to you both. I wanted to argue and tell her I could keep you both safe, but we both knew that wasn't possible."

Rose noticed that Dimitri, at this point, had moved to stand beside her, as if trying to lend her his strength. Avoiding eye contact, she kept her gaze focused on the man in front of her. "So, if you stayed out of our lives, how or why did you find me?" she asked.

She saw a deep pain flicker across his face as he said, "When I found out about your mother, I knew I had to ensure you were safe. I had been able to watch out for your through various means. Your mother had been kind enough to send me photos and updates on occasion." Pausing, he looked at her with what could be described as pride. "When I heard you had joined the CIA, I was both proud and worried. I was fearful you'd end up like your mother. But, I also knew you had the same fire and zeal as she did to do what is right. So, if you were going to risk your life in both the pursuit of justice, as well as revenge, I figured I would do my damnedest to protect you."

Rose studied the man, reflecting on his words. Walking up so that they were nearly touching, she whispered, "Were you ever planning on telling me?"

His eyes, unflinching, answered, "Probably not."

Searching his face and realizing the truth of the matter, Rose nods before turning to Dimitri. "Let's go," she told him as she walked toward the exit. She felt Dimitri at her back, the heat radiating off him giving her strength.

"Rose, please!" she heard Abe shout.

Continuing to walk, Rose retorted, "No! I don't want to hear any more of your excuses. We're done. If I ever see you again, I'll arrest you myself!"

"Rose! Your mother is alive!"


	12. Chapter 12: Rabbit Hole

**Thank you, everyone, for your lovely reviews, as well as to those who have favorited/followed. I'm so thrilled you're enjoying the story.**

 **So, a couple of quick agenda items (can you tell I used to be a secretary?): First, there is a tiny lemon toward the end. I almost didn't mark it but felt like those who don't enjoy those types of scenes should be forewarned. It's literally two paragraphs. Second, I GOT THE JOB! So, for all you lovelies, this means I might take a little longer to update. I don't start the new one until the 15th, so we have a bit of time. I'll have to be doing my old job, training for the new one, planning and implementing a move, and possibly traveling to Chicago for more training...twice! Okay, now I'm exhausted just thinking about it. ;-p**

 **TRANSLATION: За успех – To Success**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns the other VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Rabbit Hole**

The heavy wooden door swung open, breaking the silence with its creaking hinges. The loud bang rang out like a shot a few seconds later as it was slammed closed. The woman standing at the window jumped slightly at the sound. Her hands grasped the metal bars that covered the opening. She held herself up, refusing to let the man see any sign of weakness.

"And, how are you this morning, my dear?" the man's deceptively kind voice asked, echoing against the stone walls. She gritted her teeth, willing herself to stay silent. She wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction of polite conversation. She could hear the sound of a chair being dragged closer, the heavy wooden legs scraping against the cold, hard floor. The man behind her sighed heavily. "Come now, Janine. Can you engage an old man with some pleasant conversation?"

Releasing the bars, she turned slowly until she was facing her jailer. She fought the urge to smirk as she took in his aging, worn features. He seemed to grow older and frailer every time he came to her cell. "I have nothing to say to you," she replied, her shoulders back, head held high.

Gesturing toward the other chair, he said, "Come now. Sit a moment. Look, I've brought tea."

Indeed, she could see a tray set on a wooden table between the two chairs. Glancing back at the man, she replied, "I don't want to have tea with you, and I definitely don't want to listen to anything you have to say!"

Her blood grew colder as she saw the malevolent gleam in his wrinkled, sagging eyes. He tilted his head slightly before responding, "Even if it's about Rosemarie?"

* * *

Rose stopped walking at Abe's words: _Your mother is alive_. It wasn't until she felt Dimitri's hand on her arm that she realized she had been holding her breath. Clutching her stomach, Rose turned around slowly to find Abe standing in the same spot. Even in the dim lighting, she could see the fear and despair on his face. "You're lying," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He was moving toward them now, tentative steps as if trying not to spook her. Holding up one hand, as if trying to reassure a wild horse, he replied, "No, I'm not. Please, just come back and sit down. I'll tell you everything I know."

She felt Dimitri leaning down as he whispered into her ear, "Roza, you don't have to do this."

Looking at him, their faces inches from one another, she replied, "Yes, I do." Turning back to look at Abe, she walked forward until she was a few feet away. She was waging an internal battle between wanting to kill the man and needing to hear what he had to say. "Speak," she said, her voice void of emotion.

Sighing, Abe moved back to the table. Turning, he leaned against it, his arms crossed at his chest. "Just like you, I was led to believe that Janine had died in that explosion. As there was nothing left of the body for positive identification, the CIA attempted to collect enough DNA to confirm it was her. When the results came back as a match, we all assumed she had perished." Rubbing a hand over his goatee, he continued, "For a few years, that was the assumption I lived with. It wasn't until one of my contacts within the Revolutionary Front mentioned they were holding a woman who had worked for the CIA that I began to suspect otherwise. After some digging, I was able to garner a description. It was a match for your mother. Still, I wasn't ready to believe she might still be alive."

Rose stepped forward. "So, how do you know it's really her?"

Abe looked between her and Dimitri, uncertainty in his eyes. "I'm putting my organization and my livelihood on the line by telling you both this."

Stalking ever closer, Rose ground out, "I don't fucking care about either of those things. What I _do_ care about is that you've known my mother has been alive for _years_ and you didn't even think to tell me!" She was shouting by the end, her voice echoing off the metal walls.

Uncertain as to whether it was the words she used or the tone of her voice, she found a less recalcitrant man now standing toe to toe with her, their noses only inches from one another. "You will do well, young lady, to remember to whom you are addressing. I may be your father, but I am also a man who should _never_ be trifled with."

"Well, seeing as how I'm _your_ offspring, I assume you'll be able to figure out my response to that without me having to utter a word," she said her posture as rigid and fixed as his.

In less than a heartbeat, she saw a small smile form across his lips before he quickly schooled his features once again. Pulling back slightly, he said, "The reason I know for a fact that it's Janine is because I have someone inside the CIA."

Rose instantly took a step back. She had thought nothing more could surprise or shock her. She whipped her head to Dimitri. He, too, was wide-eyed in disbelief. She felt him move next to her, as he ground out, "Is the mole at Interpol one of yours, as well?"

Abe shook his head. "No, I mean, yes, I have someone who feeds me information, but only things that help me look out for Ros - and you," he said, nodding at Dimitri. "No, the mole I warned you about is with the Front. I'm still trying to identify them from my end, but so far haven't found much."

Rose's head was swimming. Regaining her composure, she waved a hand in front of her, drawing the two men's attention back to her. "So, who is your person inside the CIA?" she inquired.

Abe smirked before replying, "Oh, my dear. Do you really expect me to give up that information? Besides, it's irrelevant. They are serving the same purpose as my contact in Interpol. They're only there to keep an eye on you and to pass along any information to ensure your safety."

"I don't need, nor do I want, your protection," she ground out. "I've been doing just fine all these years without you."

She saw Abe raise an eyebrow. "Oh really? Do you think you'd be as close to the head of the Front if you hadn't had my assistance?"

"Close?" she exclaimed. "We still have no idea where, or even who the hell he is. How is that 'close'?"

"Rosemarie, all our work these last few years have put a dent into his organization. Hence the bounty on your head. Remember, he who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not will be victorious."

Rose rolled her eyes before shooting a look to Pavel. The only tell was a flash of a smirk. Looking back at Abe, she said, "We've been lying in wait for years!"

"Yes, well, obviously the man has more patience than some," Abe muttered. Sighing, he continued, "What I mean is that we have him flustered enough that he's taking a more direct interest. I would deduce that means he'll have to make a mistake."

Rose pondered Abe's words. The leader of the Front wanted her out of the way. She was a threat. Considering her options quickly, she realized that the best way to entice a rat was to offer it a tasty piece of cheese. Focusing back on Abe, she said, "Then let's force his hand. If he wants me, let's make sure he catches me."

* * *

Dimitri's eyes widened as he took in her words. After everything he had seen and heard, this was by far the most outrageous. There was no way he would allow Rose to be the bait. He quickly moved around to stand in front of her. Grasping her arms, he forced her to meet his gaze. "No fucking way, Roza. I'm not going to stand by while you get yourself killed. There has to be another way."

Smiling softly at him, she said, "Comrade, I appreciate your concern, but I don't see any other option. If it is as Abe says, and they have my mother, it's only a matter of time before they either use her as leverage or hedge their bets and kill her. We've run out of time." Pulling out of his grasp, she moved to the side, looking at her father once again. "Do you think I'm more valuable to him alive than dead?" she asked the mobster.

Dimitri turned, expecting to find outrage on Abe's face as well. He was shocked to see the man considering Rose's words. "It's possible," Abe answered. "He may think you can provide intel that his operatives have been unable to obtain. It would sweeten the pot if you were able to obtain something that was of importance to him."

"Abe, you're her father!" Dimitri exclaimed. That fact had yet to fully sink in, but he knew now was not the time to dwell on it. "You can't possibly think this is a good idea?"

"No, I think it's a horrible idea, but Rose is right. We're out of options and most likely time. If we have any chance of retrieving Janine, we're going to have to make some sort of move, and soon," Abe replied.

Dimitri ran a hand roughly through his hair. "I can't see Tasha allowing this," Dimitri said.

"I know," Rose replied. "That's why we're not going to tell her."

Dimitri groaned. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sighed before responding, "If you're going to do this, then I'm going in as your back-up. If it looks like he's not going to bite, but instead decides to eliminate you, you'll need someone to get you out."

"I can't let you do that, Dimitri. This isn't your fight," Rose replied softly.

Dimitri chuckled. "Roza, it became my fight the minute I met you."

His heart stuttered at the slight tinge that came to her cheeks as she smiled at him. "Thank you," she whispered before turning back to Abe. "So, what do you suggest, old man?"

"Word is the Front is looking for someone. Whoever they are, they're critical to the group's agenda. If we can find out who that person is, we might be able to spread the word that Le Chat has obtained their identity."

"Do you know who it is?" she asked Abe, irritation lacing her words.

"I don't. All I know is that whoever it is, they possess something of great importance. I also know it's a woman," he replied. "I'll talk to my sources and see if they have any further information. In the meantime, I suggest you two come up with a story for Assistant Director Ozera, as well as Assistant Director Croft. We're more likely to succeed if we keep the circle small." Nodding briefly, Rose turned to walk toward the exit, Dimitri following closely behind. He heard Abe call out, "Rosemarie, I would still like for you and Dimitri to join me at the party on Tuesday. It…it would give us a chance to spend some time together."

He saw Rose stop briefly before she turned her head and nodded slightly before she turned and continued walking out of the warehouse.

Using the side door, he pushed it open, waiting for Rose to walk past. Letting it slam behind them, he saw the sun was high in the sky. Dimitri had to squint as the bright light blinded him temporarily. Covering his eyes with his hand, he looked around. Traffic moved on the side streets that paralleled the warehouse as if issues of national security weren't being plotted a few yards away. He saw the men who had been in the warehouse earlier, as well as the ones who had abducted him. They were standing around the cars and ramp, all in prep mode. He grinned as he saw Rose move past one, in particular, striking him with her shoulder. The man's eyes were covered in dark sunglasses, but Dimitri saw his jaw briefly clinch.

Following Rose, Dimitri slid into the passenger side of her Charger. Pulling on his seatbelt, he said a silent prayer as she backed up, flooring the gas pedal and kicking up gravel. Dimitri chuckled as he saw some of Abe's men scurrying for cover from the mini projectiles. She pulled out onto the street and turned down the road, heading back toward D.C. Sliding a sideways glance at her, he saw that her knuckles were white against the black leather of the steering wheel. He itched to rest a hand over one of hers, offering comfort or support. He steeled himself, uncertain if she would welcome the gesture.

"I don't know about you, Comrade, but I could really use a drink," she finally said as they drove down the highway.

Turning to look at her, he asked, "Your place or mine."

He saw a small smile play at her lips, as she recognized him mimicking her question to him from the day before. "Mine's closer."

Settling back in the seat, Dimitri let the quiet continue, knowing she needed time to process everything that had happened. _Hell_ , he thought. Dimitri needed time as well. In less than twenty-four hours, he had gone from investigating a jewel thief to plotting to take down a terrorist mastermind. Not only that, but Dimitri was doing so with his… _what the hell was she_? He groaned internally. It was just one more thing on the long list he'd need to work through.

"So, are you really going to keep Tasha out of the loop?" he asked, gripping the bitch bar as Rose sailed past a slower moving car. Glancing at the speedometer, he could see she was doing well over the posted speed limit.

"Haven't decided," she said, shrugging her shoulders. Glancing at Dimitri before looking back out the windshield, she asked, "What about you? Planning on filling in your boss?"

Dimitri turned to look out the window, the scenery whizzing by at a frenetic pace. After a few seconds, he turned back to look ahead. "I guess I'll take your lead on this, Roza."

"By the way, what's with the 'Roza'?" she asked.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he explained, "It's your name, in Russian." Pausing, he turned to face her. "What's with 'Comrade'?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

She chuckled, replying, "Well, you're from Russia, and, I don't know, it just felt right."

Not much later, they pulled into a parking garage beneath a massive housing unit. Dimitri had observed the sign as they had entered telling him they were condominiums. "So, do you rent or own a unit?" he asked as they climbed out of the car and made their way to the elevator.

"Own. I have an apartment in another part of town that is under Lilly's name. That _was_ so I could fly under the radar with Abe while I was back home." She laughed humorlessly, "Guess I can cancel that lease now, huh?"

Once up in her condo, he followed Rose into the interior, letting his eyes scan the space. He smiled slightly as he took in the sparsely decorated living room. Like him, she lived out of a suitcase most of the time, so the need for homey touches was a lost art. "What's your poison," she asked as she slipped into the small kitchen.

Leaning against the wall at the opening, he shrugged. "What do you have?"

Leaning down to open a cupboard, Dimitri couldn't help but stare at her rounded, firm backside. The pants fit as if they had been made specifically for her - the way they molded to her body. He felt the familiar surge beneath the waist and lifted his eyes quickly when he saw her peering at him from underneath her arm. If he were the type of man to blush, he realized he would be fifty shades of red right then. She was smirking before she said, "See something you like?"

Dimitri chuckled as he watched her pull several bottles from the space below. Setting them on top, she turned the bottles and read off each label. "You wouldn't happen to have any vodka?" he asked.

"I think so," she said, turning to the fridge. Pulling open the top freezer door, she reached in and pulled out a frosted bottle. Dimitri grinned as she handed it to him. "Will this do?"

He looked at the bottle. _Well, there went one more check in the plus column_ , he thought as he saw the Russian Standard's black and white label. "Perfect," he mumbled.

He observed her as she pulled down a shot glass before handing it to him and then grabbing a bottle of twelve-year-old Jim Beam Signature for herself. Brushing past him, she headed into the living room, plopping down on one of the large, leather sofas. He moved to follow, sitting at the opposite end. She waited until he had poured his drink before raising the already opened bottle. "To stupid plans," she said before taking a large swig.

"За успех," he said, tossing back the shot.

She eyed him over the bottle she had raised back to her lips. Lowering it, she asked, "So, does that mean you think this plan has a chance in hell of working?"

Pouring another drink, Dimitri tossed it back before replying, "With the three of us, I'd give us a fifty-fifty chance of pulling it off."

Laughing, Rose took another sip from the bottle. "So, any idea how to increase those odds?"

Dimitri poured another round, while he pondered her question. In all honesty, if they had the resources of Interpol and the CIA, they'd stand a much better chance. On the other hand, with Interpol having been infiltrated, he knew it would also seriously jeopardize everything. He wondered if it would be possible to bring in some of his team that he trusted implicitly. Even if she and Abe agreed, he couldn't help but wonder how they'd be able to circumvent Croft finding out what they were doing. Slinging back the drink, he replied, "I'd like to bring Keren in on this." He could see uncertainty forming in her eyes, as well as something else he couldn't define, as the words came out of his mouth. Holding up his hands to keep her from interrupting, he continued, "I trust her, Roza. I'm sure you've read her dossier. You know her skill set. She could be a valuable asset."

He watched as she stood, still clasping the bottle around the neck. She walked toward the patio doors, gazing out on the city skyline. Taking another drink, she turned around to face him, saying, "Fine. I should probably run it past Abe, but at this point, I'm pretty much at the 'fuck him' stage," she said grimly.

Dimitri stood, walking to where she was standing. Unable to resist offering some sort of comfort, he cupped her face in his hands as he stood in front of her. Lifting it up, Dimitri brushed his lips across her forehead. Softly, he said, "You had a lot thrown at you today. A lot of other people would have folded underneath it all. You're amazing."

She raised her free hand and rested it gently over the gunshot wound on his chest. Her eyes were fixated on the spot, as they grew glassy from unshed tears. "I'm so sorry you've been pulled into this," she whispered.

Taking the open bottle from her hand, which was now tilted precariously, he set it on the coffee table before gathering her in his arms. He let his chin rest on the top of her head and used his arms to surround her. He hoped that he could offer her a little of his strength to gird her for what they would face. "I owe you my life, Roza. This is the least I can do."

Mumbling into his chest, she responded, "Yeah, well you seem to keep forgetting that if it weren't for me, your life wouldn't have needed saving."

Dimitri chuckled. "If it hadn't been you, it would have probably been some other outrageously beautiful jewel thief."

He felt her shake against his chest as laughter bubbled up from within her. He grinned, pleased he could ease at least some of her tension. She stepped back slightly. Looking back up at him she smiled, saying, "Thank you. For being here as well as for looking out for me." Pulling away, she walked over to pick up the bottle before settling back onto the couch. "If you haven't already noticed, I'm a pretty independent, self-sufficient woman. I don't need anyone to take care of me." She must have seen the concern in my eyes, afraid I had overstepped, when she said, "But, that doesn't mean I don't appreciate it, or recognize when I need help."

Dimitri poured another shot, downing it before he responded, "I'll let you in on a little secret." He scoffed, "Well, okay, probably not a secret to you, since I'm sure you've read my file." He saw her looking sheepish as she chuckled. "I was basically raised in a family of women. Being the man of the house from a young age, I've always been the protector. I guess you could say it was the perfect setting to make me the agent I am today. Anyway, my mama also taught me to be a gentleman, so I'm always looking out for ways to help damsels in distress." Seeing her about to get riled up and provide a good retort, he smiled and hurriedly said, " _Even_ if that damsel can kick some serious ass all on her own."

Narrowing her eyes at him, but with a smirk on her face, she said, "That was close, Comrade." Taking another pull from the bottle, Rose sat quietly, watching him. "Can I ask you a question?" Dimitri nodded, the slight buzz beginning to work its way through his body. "Abe says you both go way back. And at the warehouse, he said he was looking out for you as well. Mind if I ask how you two know each other?"

Dimitri busied himself, as he poured another shot. This time, he slowly sipped at it, hesitant to fill her in on his shared past with her father. Glancing up, Dimitri saw her looking at him expectantly, but also with compassion. Sighing, he settled further on the sofa. "My father, or shall we say, sperm donor, was a true bastard. His favorite pastime, when he was drunk, was to beat my mother. I finally had enough and tried to stop him. However, I was the one that ended up in the hospital." He paused, stealing a glance at Rose, waiting to see the typical look of pity he always received. Instead, he saw pain and anger. Taken aback slightly, he took another sip of the vodka before continuing. "While I was in the hospital, my mother sought out Abe. He was well known in certain circles. His influence wasn't quite what it is today, but he still had enough clout and manpower to get things done. He told my mother he would convince my father to leave and never come back," Dimitri finished, shrugging.

"And, by Abe's persuasion, you mean?" she asked, drawing her thumb across her neck.

Dimitri raised a quick eyebrow before answering, "Not initially. Apparently, a couple of his men were escorting my father out of town when he tried to rush them. They killed him, and his body was never found. As far as my mama and the rest of the family is concerned, my father left town and never looked back."

"So," she drew out the word, "does Abe hold that over you as leverage of some sort, or do you feel a sense of obligation?"

Rubbing his hand across his forehead, closing his eyes briefly, he considered her words. Sighing, he replied, "I guess a little of both. He's never said outright that my family is indebted to him. It's always been an unspoken understanding. And, I suppose I do feel I owe him. Not for killing my father, but for helping out a family with which he had no relation."

Rose nodded, "Mind me asking what that sort of obligation entails?"

"Nothing illegal, per se. Mostly it's been in the form of me looking the other way on some of his lesser acts." Not wanting her to think him crooked, he quickly added, "Trust me, if he ever crossed the line, I'd be the first to bring him in."

"Is that why you were so keen to come after Le Chat; because of Abe?" she asked.

Dimitri shook his head. "No, I suspected his involvement but never had any proof. My interest in you was purely out a sense of duty. You were a thief, and I was the one assigned to catch you."

Rose chortled, "Yeah, like _that_ would have ever happened."

Dimitri narrowed his eyes, "Keep in mind, Roza, if it weren't for Spiridon, I would have had you in Paris."

Setting down the bottle, Rose leaned forward on the couch on her hands and knees. Slinking toward him like a cat on the prowl, she drew closer until her face was just inches from his own. He stayed his hand, which was itching to reach out and grab a fist full of her luscious, long locks. Her pupils were slightly dilated, although he couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the same desire that welled within him. She was staring at his lips as she replied seductively, "Maybe, but you _definitely_ had me in D.C."

Dimitri smirked before replying, "Are you sure you want to do this, Roza?" he whispered. He knew they were both slightly buzzed, but he wanted to give her the option to stop. She had been through so much today. He assumed this was her attempt to forget, even for just a few short hours, how messy things in her life had suddenly become. Licking her succulent lips, her eyes heavy with desire, she merely nodded. Needing no further prodding, Dimitri let go of his control and reached out, clasping a handful of silken strands at her nape before dragging her lips to his.

Dimitri pulled her to his chest, crushing her against his body. Her fingers were threaded through his hair, her short nails scraping at the scalp. Tongues caressed, lips grazed, and teeth nipped as each fought for dominance in their lust-crazed dance. Dimitri's hands had slid down her body and were now firmly attached to her ass. As he squeezed the supple flesh beneath the thin fabric of her pants, he relished in the low moan she uttered. As she ground against him, her hands were working furiously to pull his t-shirt up and over his head. Breaking apart for as briefly as possible, he reached down and lifted the offending garment off before tossing to the floor. At the same time, Rose had pulled off her shirt as well, flinging it somewhere else in the room. In seconds, their lips were reattached as Dimitri's hands slip up her back, kneading the muscles and smooth skin as he went. Reaching the clasp of her black lace bra, he quickly unhooked it, pulling the shoulder straps down her arms a second later.

 _ **-START M SCENE-**_

Staring at her, Dimitri sucked in a breath as he lifted his hands up, cupping each delectable mound in his hand. His eyes moved reluctantly to her face, as he ran his thumbs lightly across each taut, tawny nipple. While he found the sight of her bare chest enthralling, what enraptured him most was the burning desire that eclipsed her face when feeling the pleasure he gave. Her head fell back, as she sighed, pushing herself further into his waiting, wanting hands. Groaning, he continued his ministrations, reveling at how the skin beneath his thumbs grew tighter.

"Please," he heard her breath out huskily, as she reached up to pull his head closer. Keeping one hand where it was, he lowered his mouth to the now neglected bud. Circling it with his tongue first, he relished in the increase in sharp breaths as Rose panted in need. Her nails were digging into his scalp; the brief spike of pain only causing him to harden even further. Not wanting to torment her further than she had already been earlier, he eased her suffering by suckling at the now engorged nipple, taunting and teasing it with his tongue and teeth. As she cried out in ecstasy, her hips slamming against him, he tweaked the other one between two fingers.

 _ **-END M SCENE-**_

As Rose's hands slid between them, eagerly pulling at the button to his pants, Dimitri heard a phone ringing from the coffee table beside them. He felt Rose's hands still, as she breathlessly looked toward the offending device. Sighing heavily, she leaned over, grabbing the phone from the table. Quickly looking at the screen, she swiped across it, answering with a terse, "Hey, Liss. Can I call you back?"

Dimitri leaned back, waiting for her to finish the call, his raging hard-on nearly bursting his pants at the seams. It was only when he heard the steel tone in her voice as she replied to something Lissa had said, that he refocused his attention. "Are you okay?" Rose said into the phone. She was already shifting off his lap, looking desperately for her shirt. Finding it, he watched as Rose slipped it over her head, quickly replacing the phone to her ear. "Did they steal anything?" she asked. Dimitri's own concern now outweighed any carnal desires he might have been holding on to. Picking up his own shirt, he pulled it on before buttoning up his pants once again. "Okay, we'll be right over," she said. He couldn't help the bemused smirk as he watched her blanch at her mistake. "No, I said, I'll be right over."

Hanging up quickly, she looked at Dimitri. "Someone broke into Christian and Lissa's place. From what they can determine, nothing was stolen. They're still cataloging everything. I'm going to head over there," she said, already moving toward the front door.

"Not so fast," Dimitri responded. "Remember I don't have a car. Besides, they're my friends too." He smiled as he saw her once again falter as she probably tried to determine how she would explain how they came to be together. Walking up next to her, he whispered into her ear, "Don't worry. I won't tell them you tried to take advantage of me."


	13. Chapter 13: Best Intentions

**Once again, thank you all for your reviews/favorites/follows...and for your patience. Apparently, my muse decided to take an extended holiday to Tahiti this week, so I struggled mightily with this chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint.**

 **There is a minor lemon, which I've marked. Feel free to bypass if it's not your thing. You won't lose much in the way of the storyline, should you chose to.**

 **If anyone is looking for something to read, my recommendation is a new story by Lea0014 called "Desolate." Yes, I am collaborating with her on it, but that's not why I'm recommending it. She's created an exciting alternative to what could have occurred after Dimitri's rebuff in Last Sacrifice. It's angsty and full of raw emotion. I hope people enjoy it if that's something you like to read.**

 **On a quick note. Assume readers have figured out that line breaks within the story usually indicate a switch between points of view. I chose to use those here instead of the usual (RPOV, DPOV, etc.). I went back and forth a few times in this chapter, so there are several breaks, but I think the context and dialogue make it clear who's speaking.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns the VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Best Intentions**

Rose knocked on the door, tension radiating off her in waves. Relief flooded through her as Christian answered the door. Smiling at him, she quickly pushed past as she made her way inside. She let out a breath, not realizing she had been holding it in since knocking on the door. Lissa was holding a broom and dustpan, sweeping up broken shards from the wooden floor. Looking up, Rose saw both the grim determination to be strong mixed with the understandable fear. Rushing to her friend, Rose enveloped her in her arms, holding on tightly. They stood there for a moment, before Lissa finally let out a low chuckle, saying, "Rose, remember the fetus."

Releasing her friend, Rose huffed out a laugh. Rubbing her hand along Lissa's arm in comfort, Rose turned to find Dimitri and Christian speaking in hushed voices by the front door. Looking back at Lissa, she squeezed her arm before releasing it and walking over to where the two men stood. "Tell me everything," she said, keeping her voice low.

She watched as Christian glanced quickly toward Lissa as if he now carried a burning need to keep her in his sights at all times. Looking back at Rose and Dimitri, he replied, "We went out this morning, to run a few errands. We were gone for maybe two hours, tops." His face grew dark, as he leaned in closer, saying, "Rose, whoever did this was a professional. There's absolutely no sign of tampering on the locks or door, and so far, we can't find a damn thing missing." Glancing back to Lissa, who was still fastidiously cleaning, he said, "This wasn't a robbery. They were looking for something."

Rose and Dimitri looked to one another at the same time, realization dawning on them both. While the local authorities might have written it off as a robbery, the three of them knew better. Turning back to Christian, Rose asked, "Christian. Are there any cases you've been working on recently that might elicit this type of action?"

Scoffing, Christian said, "No way. The only thing I work on these days is missing persons. I work closely with the NCMEC. I only work on following up leads and tips." Pausing and looking around, he shook his head, "No way. This had _nothing_ to do with my work."

Nodding, Rose slipped away, walking back toward her friend. "What can I do to help, Liss?" she asked.

Wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, she replied, "I haven't cataloged every little thing yet. We just checked all the big-ticket items for the police: electronics, jewelry, and the like. The only room left is our bedroom."

"Lead the way," Rose said, smiling. She would do her damnedest to make all of this easier on Lissa, one way or the other. If it meant helping her feel safe and secure, by downplaying the seriousness of what had occurred, then she'd be Polly-fucking-anna.

Following her friend, they made their way up the stairs to the second floor. The master bedroom was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the street. Rose had to hide her revulsion as she took in the mess. The mattress and box spring had massive diagonal gashes from corner to corner. Every drawer had been pulled out and emptied, and the contents were strewn about. Glancing toward the enormous walk-in closet, she saw that any and all boxes and containers were now empty of their belongings, scattered and flowing out from the space.

Schooling her features, Rose turned to her friend, "So," she said, smiling, trying her best to come across as upbeat and positive. "How about we put things right, and while we do that, you can be looking for anything that might be missing?" she suggested. Rose walked to the bed. Looking down at it, she had to frown. She assumed the guest room bed had suffered the same fate. "Hey, Liss," she asked, looking at her friend. Lissa was lifting the now empty bureau drawers off the floor and sliding them back into place. "Where will you and Christian be staying until everything's put back together? You can't exactly sleep here," she said, pointing toward the destroyed bed.

Continuing her work, Lissa replied, "We're going to stay with Tasha. She invited us to stay there until we get things cleaned up and new beds delivered."

Rose felt a little relief, knowing they would hopefully be safe staying with an Associate Deputy Director of the CIA. Rose knew Tasha's place was built like a prepper. Hell, the woman even had a safe room. "Good," she responded. Walking over to where Lissa stood, Rose began picking up various items and handing them to her. "How about I do all the heavy lifting, and you just put the stuff where you'd like it to go."

As Rose picked up items, Lissa methodically and systematically found a home for each. After a few minutes, Rose could feel her friend's eyes boring into her. Looking up, she noticed that Lissa was studying her as if judging whether to speak. "Lissa, either say whatever it is you want to say or stop looking at me like that." Shuddering, she said, "It's giving me the creeps."

Sticking out her tongue at Rose, she smiled before asking, "So, how is it that you and Dimitri arrived her at the same time? Christian hadn't had a chance to call him yet."

Trying to think quickly, Rose spit out, "We had a meeting with some co-workers about a case we're both working on now." Lissa smirked and nodded, but said nothing. Perturbed, Rose continued to pick up various sundries before handing them to Lissa. "What? You don't believe me?" she asked, avoid eye contact.

"Let's just say that when I hugged you, it smelled as if you had taken a shower in his cologne. It's a very distinct scent. I should know. I bought it for Christian."

Moaning, Rose sword under her breath. Looking at her friend, she pleaded with her, "Please, Lissa. Can we just let this drop? It's not a big deal."

"But why, Rose? I mean, he's basically sex-on-legs gorgeous," Lissa said. Seeing the slight glare from Rose, she chuckled, "But, so not my type."

"Yes, I know good and well your type; pasty, obnoxious, and pompous." With her reflexes, Rose quickly ducked the flying object, letting it whiz past her head before bouncing on the floor. "Hey, watch it!" she said, pointing an accusatory finger at her friend.

Merely smiling, Lissa continued, "Rose, you haven't been involved with anyone in a long time."

Rose threw up her hands. "Whoa, stop right there! You need to reverse that train of thought right back into the never-gonna-happen station. This…thing…with…him, "she said, gesturing wildly between herself and the bedroom door, "is just sex."

"Are you sure?" Lissa queried.

"Of course I'm sure! My life is complicated enough. Besides, I live here and am usually traveling for work. He lives and works in France. If I can't handle having a relationship in general, what the hell makes you think I could pull one off that has an actual ocean separating us?"

Lissa nodded solemnly. "You're right. It's probably for the best. Besides, I would hate to see you get hurt."

Furrowing her brow, Rose asked, "Why would I get hurt?"

Looking toward the bedroom door, Lissa held up her hand. Walking over, she quietly closed it before walking back to where Rose stood. "I don't know if I should share this, but seeing as how you're my best friend, I think it's something you should know." She paused briefly, only piquing Rose's curiosity further. "A couple of years ago, after Dimitri left the FBI and went to work for Interpol, he met a woman there. She started there about the same time he did. She was Russian and a former SVR agent. Her name was Svetlana. According to Christian, they were very much in love. Well, at least Dimitri was. About a year after they started seeing each other, it was discovered that Svetlana was actually a double agent. She had apparently been using Dimitri to gain access to sensitive Interpol files. She managed to escape from France and return to Russia. Ever since then, Christian says Dimitri doesn't get close to anyone, at least not romantically."

Rose's eyes had widened with each revelation. She had read the CIA's file about Svetlana Barkov. It was required reading for all counter-intelligence agents. What she hadn't realized was that Dimitri was the agent involved. His name had been redacted from the files, presumably to protect both him and his career. She knew from the record that it was Sveltana's lover who had discovered her treachery and had nearly arrested her before her escape. She was astounded, however, as she revisited her previous interactions with Dimitri, that he had seemed to trust her implicitly. Those pesky somersaults her stomach did on occasion when she thought about the man suddenly made their reappearance. "That's awful," she finally whispered. Her features once again impassive, she continued, "Well, I appreciate the warning, Liss. But, like I said, I have no interest in any romantic entanglements, okay?"

"Okay."

Nodding emphatically, Rose replied, "Okay."

"You already said that," Lissa observed, chuckling lightly.

Glaring at her friend, she picked up a few items off the floor before shoving them at Lissa. "You so don't want me to tell you where to stick these right now."

* * *

Christian and Dimitri were working on the downstairs: sweeping, clearing broken glass and ceramic, as well as restoring order to Christian's domain. Dimitri surveyed the damage, taking in the slashed cushions and underside of the leather sofa. Indeed he was angry that his friends' home had been violated, but on top of that travesty, his heart actually ached as he took in the destruction to the fine Italian leather. He felt Christian move to stand beside him. Turning to him slightly, he lifted a hand to the other man's shoulder. Patting it lightly, Dimitri said, "I'm so sorry for your loss, man."

"Thanks," Christian said, his voice carrying a somber tone. "Lissa just doesn't understand."

Dimitri simply nodded. Returning back to the work at hand, they returned to the kitchen, placing whatever had survived the violent onslaught back into cupboards and drawers. Breaking the silence, Christian asked, "So, how is that you and Rose arrived here together? Lissa said Rose was at home earlier today."

Dimitri winced internally. He knew their joint arrival would raise questions. He had just hoped either they would be too busy dealing with the latest crisis, or it would come up at a later time. Slipping on his poker face, Dimitri replied, "Oh, we had a meeting with some associates regarding a case we're working together. I was with her when Lissa called." Dimitri glanced at his friend, finding him smirking at him. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "What?"

Shrugging, but still grinning broadly, Christian continued putting items away. "Oh, nothing." Dimitri closed his eyes, sighing heavily. He knew his friend too well. Counting backward, silently to himself, from five, he had barely reached one when Christian spoke again, "It's just that…well, your shirt's on backward." Dimitri grabbed the collar of his t-shirt, finding that, indeed, the tag was in front. "Also, it's inside out," Christian said with a low chuckle. Dimitri cursed under his breath with a string of Russian slang colorful enough to make a hooker blush. "Whoa, dude! Remember, I speak the language as well!" Laughing, he finally said, "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Dimitri, finding a nearby roll of paper towels, heaved them at his friend. He snorted as he watched them bounce of Christian's head. "Hey!"

"Just let it alone, Christian," Dimitri insisted. Handing him some items to be put away, he hoped it would distract the man from continuing with his line of questions.

"Ease up, man. I think it's great. I mean you two are perfect for each other! You're both agents, your both dedicated, and you're both meaner than shit sometimes. The bad guys would never stand a chance!"

Glaring at Christian, he replied, "It's not like that. It's just sex, okay? You know I don't get involved." He shuddered at the thought of anything close to a commitment, in general. However, he startled as he realized that when he added Rose into the equation, none of the queasiness or reticence reared its ugly head. "Besides, it's not like we could make anything work, even if I did. She's here, and I'm there," he continued, shrugging his shoulders.

"Okay, then. It's probably for the best, anyway," Christian responded.

"It is," Dimitri replied. Continuing to work alongside Christian, Dimitri pondered his friend's comment. Turning to him, he asked, "Why would you say it was for the best?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied, "Well, besides the issues since 'she-who-shall-remain-nameless,' there's the fact that Rose has some issues."

Ignoring the comment about his past disastrous affair, Dimitri felt his curiosity piqued. "What sort of issues?" he asked, nonchalantly.

"Just that she's all about her career, or rather her mission. She's never been in a serious relationship. Well, there was this one guy, Rafe, back in college, but it burned out pretty quickly. Between you and I, the guy was a serious douche. When Rose found out he was seeing like two other women, she hacked into the school's website and changed the homepage to a picture of Rafe. Next to his picture, it said, 'What Rafe isn't telling you.' Below the picture, it said, 'VD…you never know who might have it.'"

Dimitri chuckled. "I haven't known her long, but that definitely sounds like something she'd do," he replied. He felt a small panic well within him, however, as he realized that the list he mentally kept was leaning predominantly towards the 'pros' column. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he chided himself for losing focus. "Well, while all that is fascinating, if not also amusing, you have nothing to worry about. Rose and I? Not going to happen."

"Okay," Christian replied.

"Okay," Dimitri nodded. He shot his friend a particularly nasty glare when Christian chortled and rolled his eyes.

* * *

They had finished cleaning up what they could, resting briefly to ingest some takeout from a local Italian restaurant. The four had shared good conversation, tasty food, and smooth wine. Well, except for Lissa, of course, who morosely sipped her Perrier. Christian and Dimitri had entertained the ladies with wild stories of their time at Quantico, as well as some of their more humiliating assignments.

Taking a swig of beer, Christian held up his hand, commanding everyone's attention. "So, we had this one case. It was a suspected serial killer. They were targeting prostitutes in several states. The last body had been discovered in Richmond. We had established that the perp was moving north, so we suspected they might strike in D.C." He looked at Dimitri, laughing at his sour expression. "The director decides that we need to go undercover. He picks Dimitri to go in as a prospective customer so he won't be conspicuous when he's staking out the corridor. Another agent and I are holed up in a surveillance van, disguised as a utility truck. Dimitri is sitting in a sweet cherry-red Mercedes, playing the convincing role of a wealthy John."

Rose grins widely at the image. She also heats up slightly, as an enticing role-playing scenario flitters briefly through her mind. Taking a gulp of wine, she refocuses on Christian, as he continues with the story. "So, there he sits, the car slowly moving up the street as if he's perusing the merchandise. Suddenly, he signals that he might have a suspect. He stops along the street and watches some bum rummaging through the trash."

Dimitri interrupts him at that point, exclaiming, "Hey! The man was wearing some expensive shoes. It was an honest mistake."

Snorting, Christian resumes the story. "Anyway," he says pointedly, "at that point, a beautiful hooker walks up to the passenger window and leans in. We can hear her through the comms, and she's laying it on thick. The other agent and I are cracking up in the van when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, we hear the woman yell, 'Metro Police! Put your hands on the steering wheel!' Turns out they thought he was an actual John!"

Lissa is laughing gently, but giving Dimitri a look of sympathy, having undoubtedly heard the story ad nauseam. Rose, on the other hand, is beside herself, laughing so hard she's not so sure her stomach muscles won't be aching in the morning. Christian continues, "The bum Dimitri had suspected as our perp was actually undercover as well. Turns out Metro and the FBI were working the same case but failed to communicate the fact with one another." Taking another pull from the beer, Christian said, "Needless to say, it took a _very_ long time for our man here to live it down."

Groaning, Dimitri responded, "This is true. I don't think a work day went by for nearly six months when I didn't find a condom on or in my desk."

Rose was still grinning, trying desperately to focus on the conversation around her. Unfortunately, at Dimitri's mention of condoms, she found herself revisiting their previous night's tryst. While she was no saint, Rose also had been too busy for most of her adult life to indulge in the sins of the flesh very often. She wasn't sure if her body's automatic response to Dimitri's presence and aura was merely a biological need being satiated, or if there was more to it. No man had made her feel like he did, and not just in bed. Rose Hathaway was a kick-ass CIA agent, able to kill a man in numerous ways. Yet, when Dimitri proffered his protective nature toward her, she felt no discomfort or annoyance.

"Rose?" she heard Lissa say, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Huh?" she asked, focusing on her friend's questioning eyes.

"I asked if you wanted some more wine," she said, laughter in her emerald green eyes.

"Uh, probably not. I should probably head out. I have an early meeting in the morning with Tasha," she said, rising from the chair.

The other three stood as well, clearing the table before walking Rose to the door. Lissa enveloped her in a hug, whispering, "Thank you for your help."

Squeezing her gently, she replied softly, "Always." Pulling back, she looked at her friend in earnest. "Remember, if you discover _anything_ missing, I want you to call and let me know."

Giving Rose a mock salute, Lissa responded, "Yes, Agent Hathaway!"

Cutting her a glare, Rose turned and embraced Christian briefly. Before pulling away, she whispered into his ear, "You take care of our girl and that little brioche inside." Slipping out of his arms, she saw him nod, all signs of mirth and sarcasm missing.

"I should probably head out as well. I too have a meeting tomorrow morning," Dimitri said.

He was shaking hands with Christian, when Lissa piped up, "Hey, Rose, why don't you drop Dimitri off at his hotel room on your way home?"

"I can just grab a cab," Dimitri replied quickly.

"I'm sure he'd prefer to grab a cab," I said, simultaneously.

Glaring at her friends, Rose opened the door and headed toward the elevator, Dimitri following closely behind. They maintained the polite silence all the way out onto the street. It was going on eleven o'clock at night as she watched Dimitri furtively scan the road for a taxi. Sighing, she said, "I'll drop you off."

He turned to look down at her, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "Are you sure? I don't want to put you out."

"You're not," she said, walking down the street toward her car. She could hear his heavy steps slightly behind and to the left of her as they crossed to the other side of the road. Unlocking the doors, she slipped in behind the steering wheel. Glancing into the side mirror, she rapidly pulled out and headed down the street.

Once again silence filled the space. Rose tried to stifle a laugh but realized Dimitri must have heard it. "What's so amusing?" he asked, his tone light.

Glancing at him briefly, she turned back to look out the road ahead. Smiling, she replied, "I was just amused at how awkward things feel right now, given what we were doing about twenty-four hours ago."

Dimitri chuckled. "I was thinking the same thing." He paused before shifting slightly in the seat to turn to look at her. Slicing her eyes at him briefly, she could see his expression had darkened slightly. "Look, Rose, I think you're great. I think what we did last night was pretty great as well. I'm just not—"

"Me either," she said, effectively cutting him off.

They rode in silence, arriving at his hotel about ten minutes later. Rose pulled up in front, letting the car idle. "So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning, then," Dimitri said as he started to open the car door.

Rose, lost in thought, only nodded. As he stepped out, she turned suddenly, leaning across the seat. "My place is closer to the office. You'll have to take a cab all the way out there in the morning, during rush hour. You're welcome to stay with me."

Dimitri was hunched over, looking at her intently. "Are you sure?"

She could tell his words were laced with more than one meaning. While she knew deep down that there could never be anything more between them, she also knew that at least while he was in town, she could enjoy everything else he could offer. "Positive," she said, with a smirk.

They arrived at her place about thirty minutes later. Dimitri had packed a small overnight bag, which he gripped in his hand as they walked through her door. "You can throw that in the bedroom," she said, pointing to the door at the far end of the living room.

While she slipped into the other room near the kitchen, which at a quick glance seemed to be an office, Dimitri walked into the bedroom. Setting down the bag in a nearby chair, he glanced around the space. Like the rest of the condo, it was modestly furnished as well. Looking around, Dimitri realized there were no photos to be seen. Neither had he recalled seeing any in the main room. Again, he realized that in her line of work, the less someone knew you, the easier it was to become someone else. Filing that information away for later, he laid out his clothes on the chair before pulling out his Dopp kit. Walking into the bathroom, Dimitri set it on top of the cabinet which hung above the toilet.

He was exiting the bathroom as Rose walked into the bedroom. He leaned against the door jamb as he watched her shed her clothing as if no one were around. He felt the familiar stirrings as the smooth, toned skin was revealed, piece by piece. She pulled back the covers, sliding underneath. "I hope you don't mind, but I prefer to sleep in the nude," she said as she studiously set about plugging in both phones to their respective chargers. Pressing a few buttons on the clock on the nightstand, she rested back on her elbows. Her perfect breasts were taunting him, as was she when she asked, "So, are you going to stand there all night gawking or are you going to get in the bed?"

Needing no further inducements, Dimitri quickly shed his clothes before lifting the covers to lay next to her. He smirked at her, as he saw the same raw passion in her eyes as he knew was reflected in his own. Giving him that smile he had seen for the first time in Paris, she said, "Goodnight, Dimitri. Sleep well."

As she turned onto her side, her back facing him, Dimitri couldn't help but chuckle. "Goodnight, Roza," he said as he laid down on his back.

Sleep claimed him almost immediately. His dreams were filled with erotic visuals of his previous coupling with Rose. So vivid were his visions that he could feel her soft, supple skin. Her perfectly rounded ass was rubbing against him, as he moved to claim one of her delectable breasts. He smiled in his sleep; letting himself be swept away in the experience.

* * *

 _ **-BEGIN M SCENE-**_

A heat radiating against her back brought Rose out of her serene slumber. It also banded around her waist. Running her hand across warm flesh, she realized Dimitri's arm was wrapped tightly around her; the soft smattering of hair tickling her bare skin. His leg was nestled between her own, as she felt his hardness against her backside. When the hand that had been around Rose's waist began to snake upward, she found herself unconsciously grinding back against him. As Dimitri took one breast in his hand, she felt him lift her leg with his knee. In one swift, but smooth, motion he was fully seated inside her, eliciting a pleasurable gasp from her lips and a guttural groan from deep within him.

As Dimitri surged in and out at a languid pace, he moved his hand back down her stomach. His fingers traced random patterns along Rose's skin, sending shivers of pleasure throughout her body. Working his way down, Dimitri slid his hand along her hip and thigh before hooking it under her knee. Pushing it up until her knee was near her chest, Rose cried out in ecstasy as a new fullness erupted within her. Dimitri then rolled over slightly, sinking in even further, his pace accelerating. His arm that had guided her leg slid under her, offering support. It also gave his hand the freedom to fondle and massage her firm, plump breast, tweaking and pulling on her rigid nipple.

Without even realizing when or how Rose suddenly realized that they were breathing in perfect sync. That, along with the everything else, pushed her over the edge. She felt her muscles tightening as her legs began to shake. Her insides convulsed around him as she threw her head back, crying out his name. Rolling her over onto her stomach, he continued his assault. Raising himself up on one arm, so as not to crush her with this body, he reached underneath her body. Finding the sensitive bud of flesh, he expertly stroked and teased it, taking her once again to the pinnacle of pleasure. Pushing up against him, she opened herself further to his ministrations, throwing her head back in rapture.

She could feel his breath on her ear, as he panted and grunted against her. His pace was becoming frenetic and erratic; his fingers working her even higher. She screamed as he once again sent her spiraling down from her orgasm. With a few, quick thrusts, he joined her in oblivion.

 _ **-END M SCENE-**_

They lay there, each trying to catch their breath. "You're sort of heavy, Comrade," she teased, her voice muffled by the mattress.

Rolling off, he fell to his back. "Shit!" he growled. Rose turned to see he had the heals of his palms pressing into his eyes.

Laying on her side, she pushed herself up, resting on her forearm. "What's wrong?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"I fucked up. I'm so sorry," Dimitri said, refusing to look at her.

Rose couldn't help but chuckle. "If that's you fucking up, I'm not sure I'd be able to walk when you do it 'right.'"

Pulling one hand away from his eye, he ran the other through his hair while he sat up. Turning he looked down at her, something akin to guilt shading his features. "I didn't mean for that to happen, Roza. I mean, we didn't…" he said, letting the words die off.

Understanding suddenly dawned, as Rose reached out to take one of his hands. "Hey, look at me," she said. When he met her gaze, she continued, "Yeah, it probably wasn't the best idea to go bareback without talking about it first, but don't worry. I'm clean, and I'm on the pill. I assume you've been tested?" Dimitri nodded forcefully. "Well, good. No harm; no foul."

He pulled his legs up, wrapping his arms around his knees. Looking down at Rose, he replied, "I'm still sorry. That was irresponsible."

Again, Rose let out a chuckle, trying to convey the fact that she wasn't worried or upset in the least. "Hey, I didn't tell you to stop. I wanted that just as badly." Seeing the doubt still lingering, she pointed toward the items that hung on the back of the bathroom door. "See those pajamas? I'll let you in on a little secret. I don't normally sleep in the nude," she said, whispering the last part as if revealing some national secret.

"You're really okay?" he asked sincerely.

"I'm more than okay, Comrade," she said smiling. However, on the inside, her stomach was starting to twist into knots. She found his concern and care reaching a place insider her long since boarded up and locked away. However, it was the fear of getting to close to the man – of getting hurt, or worse, hurting him – that effectively shut down any momentary breach. Looking over at the clock on the nightstand, she saw that it was only three in the morning. Turning back to Dimitri, she said, "So, it's still pretty early. We should probably try to get some sleep." With that, she slid into the covers, pulling them tightly around her, once again turning her back to temptation.

She felt him move, the mattress sinking under his weight as he laid down as well. "Goodnight, Roza," he said, sighing heavily.

"Goodnight, Dimitri."

* * *

A couple of hours later, it wasn't the alarm that woke Rose from her brief slumber, but her phone. Blindly reaching for it, she saw Lissa's name through blurry, sleep-deprived eyes. Seeing the time, Rose swiped at the phone as she staggered out of bed. "Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, trying to hide the tension in her voice. Lissa rarely called her this early. She was more of a night owl than a morning glory. Rose was rushing toward the bathroom, closing it behind her quietly. They were due at Tasha's office in a half-hour, leaving Rose to put up her hair and grab a quick shower.

"Yeah, everything's good. I was just calling because I finally realized that something _is_ missing. What's weird is that I can't think of any reason for someone to want to take it. There has to be another explanation. I probably just put it someplace else," Lissa replied.

"Okay, Liss, you're talking in circles. What exactly are we talking about here? What's missing?"

She heard her friend sigh heavily, "It's one of the last pictures I have of my mom and me."


	14. Chapter 14: Reunions

**TRANSLATION: teşekkürler - thanks**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns the VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Reunions**

Rose and Dimitri were pulling up to CIA headquarters with just a few minutes to spare. Pulling into a parking space, they made their way inside. Stopping by security, they picked up Dimitri's visitor's badge before making their way to Tasha's office. They had spoken only briefly to one another, the conversation mostly centered on Rose's discussion that morning with Lissa. Neither could find any reason behind someone taking a photo of Lissa and her mother.

Stepping off the elevator, Rose led him to the office, knocking on the Assistant Director's door before opening it. She found Tasha inside, seated behind her desk with Mason sitting with his leg crossed at the knee in the chair across from her. Both occupants stood as they entered, with Tasha making her way gracefully around the desk. "Dimka!" she cried, pulling the man into a warm embrace.

Rose stood to the side, watching silently as the two old friends greeted one another. She inwardly chastised herself at the brief clutching in her stomach as she took in their shared comradery. She had no claim on the man, and even though she knew there was nothing romantic between the two, she loathed the part of her that felt the twinges of jealousy.

The pair kissed each other's cheeks in a typical European greeting before Tasha gestured for them to take a seat. Mason pulled another chair over, leaving Rose and Dimitri to sit next to one another. Moving back around the desk, Tasha sat down and placed her clasped hands in front of her. Leaning forward, she said, "Well, I'm glad to see you, my friend. I just wish it were under different circumstances."

Dimitri nodded, replying, "Me too." Looking around the room, he turned back to her, saying, "It appears you've done well for yourself, Assistant Director."

Laughing lightly, she gestured with a sweeping movement, responding, "It does have its perks." Lowering her arms, she quickly grew serious. "But, it also has its travails. Which is why I asked for this informal meeting." Again, Dimitri nodded. "I know Rose has filled you in on everything, so I think it's best if we just skip all the whys and wherefores and get down to brass tacks. We need your help, Dimitri."

"You want me to see if I can get Croft to rescind the kill order," Dimitri replied.

Tasha nodded. "It would be most helpful if we only had one group targeting our agent." Looking at Rose, she smirked. "As much as she can be a royal pain in the ass on any given day, I've grown rather fond of her." Turning back to Dimitri, she said, "I'd very much like to keep her alive."

"So would I," he said softly, as his eyes caught Rose's. Her breath hitched as she saw once again the depth of his concern.

"Good," Tasha firmly stated. "So, here's what I propose. You can read Croft into most of what you know. Just enough to get Interpol to back off Le Chat. It shouldn't appear that your agency is giving her a pass; just enough to keep her from being shot on sight."

"Okay, I'll talk to him when I get back," Dimitri responded.

"So, have you figured out yet who your mole is at Interpol?" she asked.

"Not yet. We've ruled out anyone directly on our team. Agent Prinz is widening the scope of her investigation. I'm supposed to check in with her once we're done here."

"I'd ask that you keep me informed, once you've identified the culprit. If this is going to be an unofficial joint investigation, all the players will need to be fully apprised of any new findings. Agreed?"

"Of course," Dimitri replied.

Turning to Rose, she said, "So, what's the plan for tomorrow night?"

She hated keeping secrets from her boss but knew that for their plan to work, Tasha wouldn't be able to learn about her connection with Abe. Instead, she provided only the basics. "Dimitri will be attending with Lissa and Christian. I'll arrive with Abe. He'll find someplace secluded for the meeting to occur. Dimitri and I will have our stories straight before then, so he doesn't suspect that we've already met."

"Okay. I want this to go down smoothly. Make sure to reign in that temper, Hathaway. There will be a lot of influential people at that party, both upstanding and borderline criminal. We don't need gunplay to break out because you got pissed off at someone," Tasha said, her eyebrow raised.

"Why is it always me?" Rose cried. Pointing to Mason, she exclaimed, "He's gone off half-cocked on occasion."

"Hey, leave me and my cock out of this!" Mason retorted.

"Children!" Tasha said sternly. "Let's drop the cock talk and get back to business." Turning to look back at Rose and Dimitri, her expression softened. "Thank you both for being there for my nephew and his wife. I know Lissa was a bit traumatized over what happened."

Rose glanced at Dimitri, her eyes asking the question she didn't voice. He merely nodded his head. Looking back at Tasha, she said, "There's something you should know. Lissa called me this morning. I had asked her to let me know if she found anything missing, no matter how trivial. Apparently, she's misplaced a recent photo of her and her mother."

Rose's eyes narrowed as she saw Tasha's face pale considerably. The momentary look of fear and terror was quickly replaced with her stone façade. "I appreciate you letting me know. I'll look into it."

Scooting up to the edge of her seat, Rose leaned forward. "Tasha, what do you know?"

Her ice blue eyes, so reminiscent of Christian's bore into her own. "What I know is that you have a meeting to prepare for, and I have work to do." Turning to Dimitri, her features soften once again. "Dimka, I would love to have you over for dinner tonight. We could catch up. Lissa and Christian will be there as well. Their new beds don't arrive until the middle of the week."

"That sounds great, Tasha. What time should I be there?"

"Let's say seven." Turning to Rose, she said, "I'm sure Lissa would love it if you could join us."

"Thanks, but I think I might have plans. I'm going to reach out to Abe, and see if I can find out anything about the break-in at Lissa's. He seems to know a lot more about the Front than he's been letting on." While it was a truth, it was only a partial one. She would reach out to Abe, but for her own selfish reasons. She wanted to learn more about her mother's relationship with the man, as well as more about the man himself.

"Okay then. I think that wraps things up for now. I'd like for us to meet back here on Wednesday morning at nine sharp to discuss how things went at the party." Standing, she made her way around the desk, as Dimitri stood up. Embracing once again, she led them all to the door. "The receptionist will be able to get you a cab back to your hotel, Dimitri."

He thanked her before the three exited the office. Walking down the hall, Mason stopped in front of his office. Turning around, he reached out his hand toward Dimitri. "We weren't properly introduced back there. I'm Agent Mason Ashford."

Dimitri accepted the proffered hand, shaking it firmly. "It's a pleasure. I've read your file. Well, what wasn't redacted. Pretty impressive career. Even more impressive you've managed to stay alive being partnered with Mario, here," he said, thumbing toward Rose.

"Hey! I resent that!" she exclaimed before mumbling, "Stupid Christian."

Mason chuckled. "Yeah, 'lead foot' doesn't even cover it. More like 'Osmium foot.'"

Waving her arms in front of her, she said, "I'm right here, folks."

Tossing her a withering glance, Mason put his arm around her, pulling her into his body. Turning to smile at Dimitri, he said, "Well, we appreciate your help on this. Rose maybe be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she's my pain the ass."

Smacking him in the stomach, she growled, "If you don't get your arm off me, I'll be a true pain in _your_ ass." Glancing up at Dimitri, she was slightly startled by the flash of menace she saw in his face as Mason withdrew his arm. "So, we'll be going now, Agent Ashford."

Waving them away as he entered his office, he said, "Fine, fine. Just go. Leave me here to file all the paperwork alone. As usual."

Snorting, Rose walked away, leading Dimitri back toward the elevators. Riding in silence, they reached the first floor. Dropping off his badge, they stood at the reception desk. "I'll also need a cab, please," he said, smiling to the young woman. Rose shot the petite blonde a harrowing glare as she caught her eyes raking over Dimitri as if he were a cinnamon roll in the middle of a gluten-free dessert.

Leaning in slightly, she rested a hand on his arm before rising up on her toes to whisper in his ear, "No need for a cab. I'll take you back to your hotel." She made sure that her 'whisper' was loud enough for the young woman to overhear. Smiling at her blandly, she grabbed Dimitri's hand and led him out the door. Once outside, she quickly released it, unnerved by the now familiar sensation his physical contact elicited.

"You don't have to do this, Rose," he said as she unlocked the car.

Looking up at him over the hood of the car, she replied, "I know." Climbing behind the wheel, she waited patiently for him to slide into the passenger seat before pulling out of the parking lot.

After a few minutes of silence, Dimitri asked, "So, are you really planning on seeing your father tonight?"

"More than likely, if he's willing. Why? Do you think it's not a good idea?"

"I can't say. You haven't really said much about Abe's revelations. It was a lot to take in."

She remained silent, trying to find the words to explain her reasoning, as much for herself as for him. "I guess I'm just looking for answers, as to what happened after I was born and what happened to my mother. He can give me those." Glancing at him briefly, she saw he was watching her intently. "If you're asking if I want a relationship with the man, I can't answer that. At least not right now. For now, my only focus is on finding my mother and eliminating the Revolutionary Front."

"Do you trust him? To tell you the truth?" he asked.

Shrugging, she replied, "I don't have much of a choice at the moment. As much as I dislike Abe's choice of profession, I can't lie and say he hasn't always had my back." A humorless laugh left her as she said, "I guess now we know why."

After another brief lull in the conversation, Dimitri asked, "What do you know about Lissa's mother?"

Slicing her eyes toward him for a second, she turned back to the road. "She was great. She was there for me after my mother...well, I was going to say died." Pausing, she sighed heavily. "Rhea was a great mother to her children and a loving wife to her husband, Eric."

"I know her parents and brother, Andre, were killed in a car wreck several years ago. That must have been tough, for you both."

"It was. Lissa and I were supposed to be with them, but we were both struggling with a final. We decided to stay at school and study."

"What sort of work did her parents do?" he asked.

"Her father was the CEO of Dragomir Industries. It's a huge, international shipping company. They handled a bunch of imports and exports around the world. Rhea was the CFO. She spent a lot of time traveling overseas, meeting with their subsidiaries and clients."

"Is there any reason to think she would somehow be involved with the Front?"

"Never," Rose said, vehemently. "Rhea was a good, honest woman. There's no way she would be involved in terrorism. Besides, if she were, don't you think they would have found out when Lissa married Christian. They ran a full background on her before they wed."

Silence filled the space between them once again. Rose pulled up in front of Dimitri's hotel a short time later. With the car idling, Rose twisted in the seat, looking at Dimitri. "Are you ready for tomorrow night?"

Dimitri smirked. "More so than before. At least we won't have to pretend in front of Abe. That cat's way out of the bag."

"Okay, well, I guess I'll see you then," she said.

"Thank you for the lift," he said warmly before opening the car door.

As he was about to close it, Rose leaned over. "Dimitri?"

Leaning back down, he peered at her through the open door. "Yeah?"

"Thank you, too. I'm not great at asking for, or even accepting, help. You've gone above and beyond, so thank you."

Smiling warmly, with the gaze that melted her insides, he replied, "You're welcome, Roza. Don't worry. We'll find your mother and put an end to the Front. You'll see." Closing the door, she watched as he walked into the hotel before pulling back out onto the road.

As she drove back to McLean, she flipped on her Bluetooth and dialed Abe's number. He picked up almost immediately. "Are you okay, kiz?"

"I'm fine, old man."

She could hear him release a breath. "Good. I was worried after you left yesterday."

"Well, you didn't need to worry. Have you forgotten who my parents are?"

He chuckled, "Touché. So, what do I owe the honor of your call?"

Taking a deep breath, she replied, "I was wondering if you had any plans tonight? I thought we could grab a bite…and talk."

She could hear the grin in his voice as he replied, "I'd enjoy that. Why don't you text me later with a location and time?"

"Fine. I'll see you later then." Hanging up, she focused on the road for the rest of the trip before pulling back into the underground garage.

Once inside her condo, she threw together a quick salad and grabbed a bottle of water. Stepping into her office, she powered on her computer, munching on the veggies while she waited. Logging in to the CIA servers, she checked her email. There was nothing that required her immediate attention. Shifting tracks, Rose opened the company search engine before typing in the name. She took a sip of water while she waited for the results. Finally, the search results popped up on the screen. Rose leaned forward and clicked on the first link. Skimming it, she found nothing to cause concern. It was a basic biography of Rhea Dragomir, from her birth to her death.

Reading down the list of results, she spotted one document that mentioned her mother as well. Opening it, she found that most of the information had been redacted, or blacked out. However, two other items hadn't been concealed that caught her eye. One was the date of the memo – one week before the Dragomir's accident. The second was the name of the person who had authored the memo – Agent Natasha Ozera. Noting the case number down that was still visible in the subject line, she quickly closed the program. Dropping back into the chair, stunned, she wondered what had been the CIA's interest in Lissa's mother? She also had confirmation now that Tasha had known something.

Picking up her phone, she called her partner. Mason answered after a few rings. "Feeling bad about leaving me here to do all the work myself?"

"Not likely," she replied. "Actually, I need to ask a favor. Well, actually two favors."

Mason sighed heavily, "You do realize I actually have a life? I'd like to be able to get out of the office before dusk."

"Yeah, yeah…your porn collection can wait."

"I'm hanging up now, Rose," he said.

"Wait!" she called out. Heaving a sigh, she said, "Look, I'm sorry. I know I've left you to shoulder a lot of the workload in the office. It's just that a lot is going on, and we're getting closer. I can feel it, Mason."

"Damn it, woman. You know I can't resist you when you get all sincere and shit." Sighing again, he asked, "Fine. What do you need?"

Smiling, Rose replied, "First, I need to ask you to keep this to yourself. Even from Tasha. Just for now."

She could hear him groan, before he responded, "This isn't going to end well for me, is it?"

Rose couldn't help the chuckle. "Probably not for either of us. I need you to see if you can dig up the original files for this case number." She proceeded to read the sequence to him. "The memo from the file is redacted on the site. I need you to see if there are any hard copies stored in the file room."

"Got it. I'll look into and give you a call if I find anything."

"Thanks, Mase," she replied before hanging up.

* * *

After unpacking his things, Dimitri called Keren to find out if there had been any progress in finding the traitor within their ranks. According to her, she had widened the scope of her investigation into any of the support and technical staff who had worked in any way with their team on the Le Chat case. Unfortunately, she had come up empty-handed. Dimitri was relieved that Croft had come back clean, meaning he could entrust the A.D. with the details of Rose's true identity and mission. If Croft would rescind the order on Rose's life, then at least he'd have one less thing to worry about.

For whatever reason, Dimitri didn't inform Keren about Abe's recent revelations, or Rose's true identity. As far as everyone at his office was concerned, he was still investigating the elusive cat burglar. Dimitri did, however, tell her about Tasha's request to ask A.D. Croft to cancel the kill order for Le Chat, as well as the plan for Abe to introduce him to the thief the next night. After assuring his friend he would be careful, Dimitri hung up.

Glancing at the clock in the room, he saw he had just enough time to grab a cab to meet Christian. Dimitri had agreed to help Christian find a new living room furniture. According to him, Lissa had delegated that task to him, which he was all too happy to accept.

As he pulled up in front of the store he was to meet Christian, he saw the man standing out front, talking on his cell. Paying the drive, Dimitri stepped out and approached him. Christian held up a hand but continued to speak. "Yes, I understand. Thank you," he said, before ending the call. Based on the look on his face, Dimitri gathered it wasn't a pleasant conversation.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Christian sighed but nodded. "Yeah. It was just the police. They weren't able to pull any fingerprints from the scene. Whoever did this was smart."

"Shit, I'm sorry, man," Dimitri replied. "How's Lissa holding up?"

"She's fine, I think. She seems more pissed off that someone destroyed the furniture. That, and the fact that she thinks someone stole a picture of she and her mom."

Dimitri nodded. "It does seem an odd thing to take. Any idea why anyone would be interested in either she or her mother?"

Christian shook his head. "No earthly idea. Rhea was a businesswoman, wife, and mother. It makes no sense."

Dimitri considered sharing he and Rose's concerns with the man but then decided against it. He had enough to deal with at the moment. Until they had something more concrete, he realized it would only add to his concern. "Well, it's probably nothing." Patting his shoulder, he said, "So, how about we go buy you all some furniture?"

Smiling, Christian replied, "Yeah. I could use some shopping therapy I think. Lissa claims it's a balm for the soul."

Both men were chuckling as they made their way inside. They were immediately greeted by a young woman who seemed particularly enamored with Christian. "How may I help you gentleman today," she asked, batting her heavily made-up eyes at Dimitri's friend.

"I need to find a sofa and oversized chair for our living room," Christian responded.

"In Italian leather," Dimitri added.

He watched as the woman's face fell slightly before she plastered the smile to her lips once again. "Certainly. I'm sure we can find something for you and your partner," she responded.

Dimitri stifled a laugh as he saw Christian's realization at her meaning. "We…he…we're not…" he sputtered.

Slipping an arm around Christian's shoulder, Dimitri smiled at the woman. "Don't mind him. We were just up all night testing out the new bed." Looking at Christian, he burst out laughing at the glare he was casting Dimitri's way. As Christian was shoving his arm from around his shoulders, Dimitri said, "Oh, don't be embarrassed, honey. You shouldn't be ashamed of a passion like ours."

As the saleswoman walked away, Christian shoved Dimitri. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Relax," he replied, still chuckling. "Remember, you have a pregnant, hormonal wife at home. Wouldn't want to give the young saleswoman there any false hope," he teased.

"What? No, she wasn't… "

Dimitri simply nodded, "She was eyeing you like she hadn't been laid in a year." He chuckled again as he saw Christian's eyes widen and dart nervously toward the back of the shop.

Twenty minutes later and one living room set ordered, they exited the store. "So, you want to ride with me to Tasha's place? I know it's early, but you can hang with Lissa and me until dinner," Christian offered.

"Sure, I don't' have anything else going on right now."

"Good," Christian replied as they walked to his car. As he was sliding into the driver's seat, he looked across the hood at Dimitri. "Oh, and just a heads up. Be prepared for an interrogation," he said, a dark gleam in his eyes.

Narrowing his own at his friend, Dimitri asked, "About what?"

"You and Rose, of course."

* * *

Rose walked through the door. It was a well-known Turkish restaurant in McLean. Glancing around, she saw Abe seated at a back table, with Pavel and two other men sitting at the next table over. There were a few other patrons around, but they were all seated at the front of the restaurant. Moving toward them, she settled into a chair across from Abe.

Smiling, Abe said, "I'm so glad you called, Rose." Picking up a nearby bottle, he poured the wine into her glass. "I hope red is okay?"

"Fine," she replied. Picking up the glass, she took a large gulp. A waiter joined them, handing her a menu. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"Their lamb dishes are their specialty. I highly recommend the Beykoz Kuzu," he said. "I've taken the liberty of ordering the Kazan Meze Special as an appetizer."

Rose nodded, as she examined the menu. The waiter returned a few moments later. "Are we ready to order?" he asked.

"Rose?" Abe inquired.

"Yes, I'll take the Tournedos Black and White, medium rare, please."

"Very good, madam." Turning to Abe, he asked, "And for you sir?"

Abe ordered the Beykoz Kuzu before dismissing the man unceremoniously. Turning to Rose, he smirked at her. "Just as stubborn as your mother."

Seeing her opening, Rose began the interrogation. "Did you love her?"

She took pleasure in seeing his eyes widen, if only infinitesimally. One rarely got an unguarded reaction from Ibrahim Mazur. "Yes, I did. I still do, actually. Your mother is a force of nature. She was one of the only women I've ever known who could keep up with me." Chuckling, he said, "That's another thing you two have in common."

"If that's true, why did you let her leave? Why did you let her keep you from being a part of my life?" she asked, her tone blatantly accusatory.

"As I said, she made a very persuasive argument. Well, that and she also threatened me with arrest if I didn't stay out your life."

"She what?" Rose exclaimed. Realizing how loudly she had spoken, she quickly glanced around the room. Luckily the other patrons and staff were too busy to take notice. Leaning across the table, Rose spoke in a hushed tone. "Why would she do that?"

Abe shrugged. "Probably because she knew I wanted to be a part of your life – of both your lives." Sighing, Abe said, "Listen, Rose, I'm not exactly father material. My line of work doesn't permit me to have a normal family life. Back then, I was more interested in keeping my little empire than I was playing house with you and your mother. To be honest, if I could go back and do things differently, I would probably make the same choice." Reaching across the table, he took one of her hands. "But hear me, Rose. I've always loved you and done what I could to watch out for you – and your mother."

Rose pulled her hand back, still reeling from his words. Looking at him incredulously, she said, "How exactly did you watch out for my mother? She was taken by a madman; held captive for all these years!"

She realized she might have overstepped when she saw his features harden. "Kiz, you are my daughter, and I love you, but don't you ever doubt that I didn't try to protect her, or you," he said, his tone fierce and challenging. "Janine was in way over her head. I tried to warn her. I told her about the chatter; that someone had identified her as a CIA operative." His features relaxed slightly. "But, like I said, your mother is a stubborn woman."

"I need you to tell me everything you know, old man. If we have any chance of getting her back alive, you've got to be honest with me."

Abe turned and nodded toward Pavel. The man stood and made his way to the table. Handing him an envelope, he retook his seat. Abe slid the envelope across the table to Rose. "This is everything I have so far. My sources are still trying to identify the mole within Interpol." Taking the envelope, she started to open it but felt Abe's hand close lightly over it. "I would recommend waiting until you've gotten home." Nodding, she folded the envelope, sliding it into her back pocket.

The waiter suddenly appeared, placing the appetizer down on the table, as well as two small plates. "Teşekkürler," Abe said to the man. Turning to Rose, he proceeded to dish a few items onto her plate. "This is börek," he explained, indicating the beef layered amongst phyllo dough. Pointing at another item, he said, "This one is dolma, or stuffed grape leaves, and these are sucuk, or Turkish sausage." He spooned another item onto her plate. "This is cerkez tavuk. It's a Turkish Circassian chicken with walnut sauce. It's good on these piece of bread."

Looking at the larger plate, she recognized the other items as Feta cheese and Greek olives. Pointing at the white sauce, she asked, "What is that?"

He spooned a little onto her plate. "That is their special garlic yogurt dip. It's delicious," he replied, grinning.

They ate in silence, as Rose tasted each item on her plate. She had to admit, it was all pretty damn good. Of course, it didn't help that she was incredibly hungry. Once they were finished and the plates removed, Abe refilled her glass. "So, kiz, anything else you would like to know?"

Taking a sip, she decided to try her luck. "Do you know Rhea Dragomir?" she asked, her eyes focused intently on his face, looking for any sign of deception.

The only tell she saw was a slight dilation of his pupils. "You're speaking of your friend's mother, yes?"

"You know I am. Now stop being evasive, and answer the question."

Abe glanced around the room before leaning closer to Rose. "Why do you want to know?"

"Lissa and her husband's home was ransacked yesterday. The only thing that is missing is the last picture Lissa had of her and her mother. There is nothing about Lissa that would warrant such an action. So, it has to be Rhea."

"I don't know much. I know Lissa's mother was in contact with your mother on occasion, before Janine and I separated." He paused, his gaze wandering from her own. Looking at her once again, he said, "Come to think of it, before your mother's 'death,' when I was tracking her whereabouts, I noticed a pattern. I didn't think much about it. Rhea's role in the family business required her to travel extensively. However, I did find that whenever she was in one city, Janine would be there as well."

Rose's brow furrowed. She had one more piece of the puzzle, but it was still a jumbled, confusing mess. She only hoped that Mason would be able to provide some additional pieces when he retrieved the original case file. "Whatever it is, it has to do with the CIA. I found a memo mentioning her name, as well as mom's and my boss. The rest of the file was redacted."

"Rose, it's imperative we see what's in that file."

Raising her eyebrows, she replied, "You don't think I realize that? My friend is pregnant and an innocent. I refuse to let anything happen to her or her family. I would burn the world before I let that happen." Giving Abe a hard glare, she added, "I would also destroy anyone who got in my way."

The corner of Abe's lip twitched up momentarily before he responded, "You are definitely my daughter."


	15. Chapter 15: Up in Smoke

**Howdy, my lovelies. Yes, I'm still breathing and upright. I apologize for the delay. Between being sick for the last two weeks and working over 50 hours this last week, it's been tough to find time to write. My update schedule is like to continue to be erratic until October, so just be forewarned.**

 **Thank you to all who have stuck with this and reviewed, favorited, or followed. Means the world to me that you all are still enjoying the story.**

 **So, without further ado, here is the next chapter. Please keep in mind that I am sick with a head cold and have no beta, so all mistakes are mine as I didn't proofread this chapter.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns all the VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Up in Smoke**

"Sir, the plane is ready. We should land at National Airport around noon. A car will be waiting to take you to the house," explained the young man in the crisp business suit.

The older man nodded briefly. "Everything's been arranged; I presume?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. The parties will all be in attendance tonight."

An evil smile formed on the man's lips. "Good. It's time I caught up with old friends and tied up a few annoying loose ends. I guess we'll find out tonight if cats really do have nine lives."

* * *

It was close to eleven in the morning when Rose pulled into Tasha's driveway. Before she came to a complete stop, Lissa was rushing out the front door. Quickly opening the car door, she slipped into the passenger seat. Giving Rose a quick hug, she squealed, "This is going to be so much fun!"

Chuckling, Rose only nodded as she navigated the circular driveway and headed back toward D.C. "So, what torture do you have planned for us today?" Rose asked warily.

"Well, I figured we could start with the hour Swedish massage, followed up with a half-hour facial. We can get some waxing in, if you want, and wrap it all up with manicures and pedicures."

"So, how long will all this pampering take?" Rose inquired.

Humming, Lissa replied, "Oh, I don't know. No more than three hours, I would think."

Silence filled the car, yet even in the quiet, Rose swore she could actually hear the gears in her friend's head spinning. Glancing over, she saw the telltale sign as Lissa nervously chewed on her cuticle. Sighing, Rose looked out the windshield. "What is it, Lis?"

"Nothing. Why do you ask?" her friend asked, trying desperately to sound nonchalant.

Glancing at Lissa, Rose rolled her eyes before replying, "Because, you're chewing at your cuticles. Might as well spit it out now, or the manicurist is going to have a field day with those hands."

Huffing, Lissa responded, "Fine." She turned in her seat, so she was nearly facing Rose. "I know you said the other day that nothing is going on with Dimitri. Well, besides sex, of course."

Rose nodded, slanting her eyes briefly at Lissa. "Yeah, that's right." Rose felt her stomach tighten slightly, wary of the direction the conversation was headed.

"Well, you know Dimitri came over last night for dinner," Lissa explained.

Again, Rose nodded, "Yes, I was there when Tasha invited him."

"Right," she replied. "So, anyway, I _might_ have interrogated him a little." Eyes wide, Rose stared at her. It was only the blare of a car horn and Lissa's sharp intake of breath that diverted Rose's attention back to the road ahead.

"Lissa, what the hell were you thinking?" Rose exclaimed.

"Okay, so maybe I might have gone a little overboard," she responded meekly.

Rose tried to remain calm, knowing her friend responded better to that tact. "Why don't you just tell me what happened."

She heard Lissa exhale slowly before responding. "Well, to be honest, it wasn't really my fault. I mean I had intended to feel him out, subtly mind you, and see what his intentions are in regards to my best friend."

"Lissa," Rose sighed heavily, "please, just tell me what happened."

"Patience, Rose. I'm getting there. Anyway, Dimitri and Tasha were in the kitchen catching up and talking about old times. And, that's when I heard it!"

Peering at Lissa, she was suddenly somewhat intrigued. "Heard what, exactly?"

Lissa lowered her voice to a whisper as if someone else might overhear. Rose found herself biting the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing. "It seems that Tasha and Dimitri were once quite the item back in the day. I mean, before that whole debacle with Svetlana."

Narrowing her eyes, Rose asked, "Define 'item'?"

"Well, according to Tasha, they were talking about getting married! But, then Dimitri got accepted into the Academy, and Tasha was promoted and assigned to a CIA field office in Los Angeles. I guess it was while they were apart they realized they were better suited as good friends."

To say Rose was shocked by the revelation would have been putting it mildly. Her thoughts swirled relentlessly as she processed the information. On the one hand, Rose had no claims to the man or his heart. Yet, she couldn't help the swell of jealousy that flooded within her. Reflecting back on the interactions she had witnessed between Dimitri and Tasha, she analyzed each tender touch and every gentle word spoken. She wondered if there were still residual feelings on either side.

She was pulled from her reverie by Lissa calling her name. "Rose, are you listening?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry," she replied. Rose internally reprimanded herself. Her focus had to stay on her mission. She had no room in her life for anything except that. Yet, even as she tried to slam the door shut on her heart, she couldn't help the small feeling of loss.

"So, anyway, after _that_ little revelation, I was able to corner him to inquire about his intentions with you."

"Lissa, I know you're only looking out for me and that you're doing this because you care, but believe me when I tell you, nothing is going on with Dimitri. I mean, yes, we're sleeping together-"

"Wait!" Lissa exclaimed. "I thought it was just the one time?"

Rose cursed silently, realizing her mistake. "Regardless, us having sex does not a relationship make, Liss. We've been over this already. Neither one of us is interested in making this into more than what it is. Can you please just let it go?"

"Fine," Lissa grumbled.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Rose caught her once again gnawing on her finger. "Just say it, Liss," Rose sighed.

"It's just that watching you two together the other night…I mean the way you two kept looking at one another. It wasn't just sexual attraction, Rose. Last night, when I asked him what he wanted from you, he said basically the same thing you did."

"See, I told you," Rose said, feeling an odd mixture of relief and regret.

"Yeah, but at the same time, he had this look on his face when he was saying the words. It was almost like regret. Plus, anytime your name came up, he'd flash this quick little smile."

Rose couldn't' help the tiny burst of hope and joy that sprung up from her friend's words. It was immediately replaced by a sense of loss and regret. "Lissa, please stop," she pleaded. "I…I can't let myself lose focus. I can't let myself hope for something more. There's too much at stake. Just let it go, okay?"

"Oh, Rose. When are you going to stop using what happened to your mom as an excuse to let anyone get close to you?"

Rose turned into the parking garage across the street from the spa. Finding a spot, she turned off the car before looking over at her friend. "Lissa, you are my best friend. You're more like a sister to me. While I understand where this is coming from, I'm only going to say this one more time. Let this go," Rose said, her tone giving no quarter for argument.

"I love you too, Rose. If that's truly what you want, then I'll butt out. I'll only say one more thing. If what I see between you two is only a small spark of what I think it could be, then you'd be a fool to walk away." With that, Lissa unbuckled her seatbelt and exited the car.

Rose sighed heavily before resting her head on the steering wheel. Here they were, supposed to be enjoying a relaxing afternoon, and yet Rose felt more tense and anxious than ever. It was only the knock on the window, as Lissa waited patiently for her to exit the vehicle, that tore her from her thoughts.

* * *

Dimitri woke early, his head still throbbing slightly from the minor hangover he had acquired at Tasha's the night before. He chuckled to himself as he thought of Christian, who undoubtedly would be feeling much, much worse. No matter how many times they had engaged in the same ritual, Christian had never learned he couldn't out drink a Russian.

Ordering an asparagus omelet with a side of toast and some tomato juice, he set about checking his email and messages. Seeing a missed call from Keren, Dimitri quickly dialed the number, finishing the last of the toast while the phone rang.

"Well, it's about time," Keren said.

"Sorry, I was out late with some friends," Dimitri mumbled, sipping his juice.

"Well, it's good to know you're enjoying yourself while I'll slave away back here," she teased.

"Hah hah," he replied. "Anything new in the hunt?"

"Unfortunately, no, but, I had an idea that I wanted to run past you."

"Okay, shoot," he responded as he placed his empty dishes outside his door.

"So, when one is hunting something, it's always a good idea to use some sort of bait. What if I were to plant something in the files? Something that would be of interest to the mole?" she suggested.

"Did you have any specific in mind?" he asked.

"Well, seeing as how it appears that based on what you've told me, Le Chat is also on the radar of the R.F., we could suggest we have the thief's true identity." Dimitri's breath caught as he considered how close to the truth Keren was. There was also the fact that Abe was already working on a similar plan to out the leader of the terrorist group. "Dimitri, are you still there?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. That sounds like a good idea. I assume you'll be tracing who gains access to the file?"

Keren sighed, "It's like you don't even know me anymore, Belikov."

Dimitri smirked. "Let me know when you find something. I've got to get ready for this event tonight and the meet with Le Chat and Mazur. I'll call you tomorrow to fill you in."

"Roger. Good luck," she said before hanging up.

Setting the phone down, Dimitri glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon. He decided he'd utilize the exercise facility at the hotel before he'd head to Tasha's. The plan was he would arrive with Christian and Lissa. He would get ready at Tasha's house and then travel in the couple's car to the party. In between, Tasha had given him access to the shooting range at Langley. He was eager to get in some shooting before the party. Whatever was going to go down, Dimitri wanted to be prepared. He knew it was going to go much more smoothly now that everyone knew the players, but he still had a small knot in his stomach. Something was off, but he just couldn't figure out what it was.

Changing into his workout gear, he headed down the elevator to the lobby level. Finding the space empty, he slipped on his headset and started to warm up on the treadmill. Building up slowly, he was soon running at a brisk clip. He could feel the alcohol oozing from his pores as the sweat fell from his body. As he finished his bottle of water an hour later, he slowed his pace incrementally until he was walking at a comfortable stroll. Shutting the machine off, he stepped down and moved toward the multi-function weight machine. He spent another thirty minutes vigorously working on all his muscle groups. He took the last thirty minutes to stretch and loosen his taxed body before he headed back to his room.

Grabbing a quick shower, he changed into his cargo pants, Henley and boots before he scooped up his overnight bag and the recently acquired tailored tux. Once he was seated in the cab the valet had flagged down, he sat back for the short drive to CIA headquarters.

Just as the cab pulled up, Dimitri's phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he grinned as he saw it was Christian. Flipping to answer, he greeted his friend more loudly than required, "Hey man. You just getting up?"

He bit back a laugh as he heard the other man groaning on the other end of the line. "Can you not speak so loudly?" he grumbled.

"You just coming to?" Dimitri asked.

Groaning, Christian responded, "No, I had to be up earlier, when Lissa left with Rose."

Dimitri grimaced in annoyance at the physical reaction her name elicited. "So, why do you still sound like shit?" he asked, refocusing.

"Fine, you're right. You can hold your liquor better than me. Happy now?"

"Oh, definitely. So, listen, I'm here at Langley. I'm going to take Tasha up on her offer to use the shooting range here. I'll be by her place in a couple of hours to get ready."

"Fine, fine," Christian mumbled. Dimitri was just about to hang up when he heard the other man call out, "Hey, I almost forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"I vaguely remember this morning something about Lissa grilling you about Rose last night. Just be prepared that those two hens will probably be squawking about you today."

This time it was Dimitri's turn to groan. He had forgotten entirely about Lissa's persistent questioning the night before. He racked his brain trying desperately to recall what he had said. "Please tell me I didn't say anything that will get me slapped…or worse?" he pleaded.

Christian chuckled before moaning, "Dude, don't make me laugh, and no, I don't think you said anything that would make Rose pull her Sig on you. By the look on Lissa's face this morning, you must have said something right."

Great, Dimitri thought. Now he had to be worried that he had said something that might give Rose the wrong idea. "Well, I appreciate the heads up. I'll see you in a couple of hours. Oh, and Christian, make sure you drink a shit load of water before tonight." He was laughing as he heard Christian mumbling various Russian curse words as he hung up the phone.

Pocketing his cell, he walked into the building and made his way toward the reception desk. The same young woman was there, her face lighting up as he approached. He silently cursed and smiled Rose as he thought of she had accurately deciphered the younger woman's interest in him. "Ah, Agent Belikov, I see you're back with us today. How may I be of assistance?" the woman purred.

Smiling politely, Dimitri replied, "Director Ozera said she'd get permission for me to use the firing range for some practice."

"Yes, of course. One moment, please." The woman dug through the sheaves of paper in front of her until she came upon her prize. "Here we are!" she exclaimed as she handed over Dimitri visitor badge. "You'll also need to carry this with you. It's a letter from the Director's office giving you permission to carry a weapon on the premises."

Taking the nameplate from the woman, he affixed it to his pocket before folding up the piece of paper and sliding into his pocket. "Thank you. Is there someplace I can store my belongings, and can you tell me how to get to the range?"

The woman beamed as she stood and reached out her hands. "I'd be happy to look after your belongings while you're here."

Smiling, Dimitri passed over the hang-up and overnight bags to the receptionist. "Thank you. I should only be a couple of hours." He stood there patiently while she continued to grin up at him, oblivious to the other guests were shuffling their feet on the other side of the desk. "And the range is…"

Obviously flustered, the woman blushed before giggling. "Of course, I'm sorry. If you just go down the hallway to your left, you'll see signs directing to the range."

Nodding, Dimitri turned and headed down the hallway she had indicated. Knowing the sheer size of the facility, he knew it might be a few minutes before he reached his intended target. Sure enough, he arrived at the door to the firing range ten minutes later. Showing the letter and his visitor's badge to the guard, he was let inside. A monitor showed him to an empty stall near the end of the range. Sliding out his gun, he checked the barrel and clip before sliding on the provided headset and eye protectors. Taking his stance, he rapidly fired off six rounds before calling for the target that was approximately one hundred yards away. He could hear some whistles as the target drew near. As expected, all six shots were center mass in a neat cluster. Reloading, he set a new one on the clip before sending it back to the end of the line.

He spent the next two hours working with not only his own gun but the various weapons others insisted he try out. Saying goodbye to his new friends, he made his way back to the front where he gathered his belongings from the enthralled receptionist. As he waited on the taxi, he couldn't help but think back to his conversation with Lissa. While he had given her no indication that his relationship with Rose was anything more than casual, he couldn't help wonder if she had picked up on something more. He had to admit, the thought of leaving to go back to France left him less than enthusiastic now. He knew that had more to do with Rose than with anything else. Yet, he also knew that between the two of them, they had enough baggage to sink the Titanic. Never mind the fact they worked on two different continents. His mind was still chewing on all this when the cab arrived. Pushing the thoughts back, he spent the brief drive to Tasha's refocusing on the evening's mission.

Just as the cab pulled into the driveway, Dimitri's phone emitted a loud, shrill ring. Removing it from his pocket, he grimaced as he saw the caller's name. "What?" he said, answering gruffly as he exited the cab. Slipping the driver some bills, he made his way to the front of the house.

"Well, never let it be said you don't have a winning personality, Agent Belikov," Abe replied, humor coating his words.

"Only with you, Mazur," he bit back. Realizing the conversation would be better held in private, Dimitri walked around the side of the house and moved out further into the yard.

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment then." Giving Dimitri no time for a retort, Abe continued, "I'm calling because I've added a little something extra for tonight's event."

Dimitri instantly felt the small hairs on the back of his neck rise. "What did you do?" he growled.

"I've simply dangled a delicious morsel in front of the Front's leader. As far as he and his cohorts are concerned, Le Chat will be in attendance tonight, prepared to steal something of value to the group."

"And, what exactly will that item be?"

He heard Abe scoff, "Oh, I have absolutely no idea. I simply leaked that Le Chat had come across some information that had led her to an item that would be damaging to the R.F. If that doesn't draw out their elusive leader, I don't know what would."

Dimitri paused, as he considered Abe's plan and words. It was a sound idea, sure to elicit a response from the reclusive frontman, but how they would be able to execute such a plan on short notice eluded Dimitri. "Okay, so how is this plan supposed to play out, in actuality?"

"Oh, that's the simple part. Rose will don her costume before making a big show of relieving an item from the house. Once she leaves, we'll simply wait for the Front to find and capture her."

Dimitri stilled his footsteps from the pacing he had been engaged in. He felt his stomach knot as he took in Abe's words. He had known, in theory, that Rose would be serving herself up as bait, yet now there was a solid plan in place. "I still don't like this," Dimitri said, bitterness dripping from his voice.

All humor and frivolity gone from his voice, Abe replied, "That is where you and I are in complete agreement. However, if we want this mission to be successful, then we must take the risk."

Dimitri snorted, "What risk is it exactly that you're taking, Mazur?"

"Watch yourself, young man. I might not be putting myself in harm's way, like Rose, but I stand to lose quite a bit if this doesn't work. Have you forgotten they're holding Rose's mother and the love of my life hostage? Have you forgotten that this could end up with my family dead?"

Feeling moderately chastised, Dimitri responded, "You're right, and I'm sorry. What is it exactly you want me to do tonight?"

"Why, my boy, I want you to have fun! I want you to help my kiz have fun!" Abe replied, exuberance once more evident in his tone.

Dimitri sighed heavily, "Besides that. I mean what's the plan once they've taken the bait?"

"Well, we don't expect them to make a play tonight, so for now we'll just sit tight and wait."

Dimitri shook his head in exasperation. If there was one thing he wasn't accomplished at, it was waiting. "Fine. I suppose I'll see you in a few hours, then."

"Looking forward to it, as always, Agent Belikov," Abe replied before hanging up.

Sliding his phone into his pocket, he slowly made his wait to the front door. While Abe's call had meant to lessen his concerns, Dimitri couldn't help but notice the growing pit deep within his stomach. Tonight he would have to be at his best. Tonight he would make damn sure nothing happened to his Roza.

* * *

Rose handed her wrap to the butler at the door. Her eyes grew wide as she surveyed the marbled and gilded entryway of the mansion. The Le Croix family was from old, European money. At least that's what the general public believed. However, Rose knew better. Their file at the CIA was definitely not the length of _War and Peace_ , but it could serve as a good bathroom read.

Gliding further into the room, she let her gaze survey the other guests, eager to see if she could identify their possible target. While she recognized many elite families, both legitimate and illicit, she found no one who set off her infamous gut.

"Rose," she heard her friend's voice call out from nearby. Looking over, she found Lissa dragging Christian toward her. The smile that had formed on her face fell slightly, however, as she took in the tall, well-built man straggling behind. Rose felt her breath catch as she watched him move in her direction. _Damn, if he didn't fill out a tuxedo nicely_ , she thought. She found some pleasure in the fact that he too seemed to be pleased with her appearance, as the heated expression she had come to know emanated from his eyes.

Rose's thoughts and line of sight were interrupted abruptly as Lissa pulled her into a fearsome hug. "I'm sorry about earlier," she whispered into Rose's ear.

"No apologies necessary, Liss," Rose whispered back before pulling away. Looking at Christian, she smirked, "Penguins got nothing on you, Sparky."

Giving her his nastiest glare, Christian simply pulled his wife closer to his side. "Well, only women of true taste and beauty can appreciate all this," he said, gesturing at his attire.

Rolling her eyes, Rose responded, "That's only because she has to and she's carrying your demon spawn."

"Stop it, you two," Lissa playfully chided. "We're at a grown-up party. Start acting like it."

"She started it," Christian mumbled.

Replying simultaneously, Rose said, "It's all his fault."

"Rose, you look lovely this evening," Dimitri interjected quietly. "Would you care to dance?"

Smiling softly, Rose replied, "I'd love to." She chose to ignore the snicker and hushed discourse between her best friend and her husband as Dimitri led her to the dance floor.

As it had been in Paris, Dimitri's hand fell to her lower back, while his other held her hand firmly in his own. She slid her free hand to his shoulder in response as he effortlessly led them around the room. "You look very nice as well," Rose said, trying desperately to hide her blush. It frustrated her to no end that his mere physical presence could whittle her down to a mere teenager.

She looked up, mildly startled when she felt he grip tighten as he pulled her against his lean, hard body. As her eyes flew to his face, she saw the telltale signs of desire swimming in his warm, dark eyes. Hitching her breath, she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, wondering what had brought forth such a visceral reaction. She heard a low groan rumble up from his chest as he lent down, his face inches from hers. "Woman, I can deal with the blushing, which can turn me hard in an instant," he said, rubbing his hips against her as proof. "However, I'm not sure I can refrain from sucking that lip from between your teeth. I only have so much self-control."

Unable to stop herself, Rose rubbed herself against him as leaned in further, her lips resting against his ear. "Who says I want you to?" she asked, a breathlessness to her voice.

He had pulled back and was lowering his head to follow through on his threat when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Pavel, Abe's man, standing beside him, his stoic expression firmly in place. "Mr. Mazur says it's time."

Extricating herself from Dimitri's embrace, Rose moved back and nodded. Glancing again at Dimitri, she gave him a small smile before she turned and followed Pavel. They were walking past Lissa and Christian when her best friend beckoned her over. Giving a slight nod to Pavel, Rose walked over quickly to her friends. It wasn't until she got closer that she realized Lissa was in deep conversation with an older, distinguished looking gentleman. He might have been handsome once, had it not been for an apparent illness ravaged his body. His dark hair was streaked with gray, and his eyes were wrinkled well beyond his years. She recognized him instantly. "Mr. Dashkov," Rose said, holding out her hand.

"Ah, Rose my dear. How good to see you again. It's been far too long," the man replied.

"Yes, I think the last time we saw you was at the funeral."

Dashkov's eyes grew sad as he looked toward Lissa. "Yes, those were dark days, indeed. I can't tell you how much I miss your parents, dear."

"Thank you, Victor. How is your daughter these days?" Lissa asked politely.

"Ah, she's doing well. She's actually in France these days. Working for some agency there I think. She tends to flit from one thing to the next, so I never really know what she's up to at any given time."

"Well, please give her my best," Lissa said kindly.

"I will, my dear." Turning to Rose, he asked, "So, what are you up to these days, my dear? You were just about to graduate college when we last saw one another."

"I actually went into international politics. Do a bit of consulting," Rose replied.

"Ah, well I'm sure you're doing quite well for yourself. You always did have a good head on your shoulders," he responded.

Rose glanced over toward Pavel, who was waiting by a closed door. Turning back, she extended her hand to Victor. "It was a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Dashkov. I apologize, but I'm mixing a little business with pleasure tonight, and must attend to a client." She held back the shudder as she held is cold, dry, wrinkled hand.

"Of course, my dear. And please, call me Victor. It's almost as if we're all part of one big, happy family," he replied, shaking her hand.

Smiling, Rose withdrew her hand and walked quickly toward Pavel. Glancing around, she slipped inside the now open door and into the nearly darkened room. The only illumination came from a small table lamp. Rose glanced behind her as she heard the door lock. Turning back around she found Abe and Dimitri standing in front of the desk, watching her intently. "What?" she asked warily as she approached the duo.

"Nothing my dear. I was just informing Agent Belikov of the plan." Nodding toward Pavel, Abe gestured toward the man. "Pavel has your gear. You'll only need to appear to be robbing the house. No need to have to additional law enforcement breathing down our necks. He will deposit the bag in an upstairs bathroom. In a few minutes, you'll ascend and change. Wait another few minutes and then begin your escape. Once the host has been informed of the theft, they'll review the security footage. While they won't capture Rose Hathaway going into the room, they will capture Le Chat exiting. Mia will secure the video feeds to ensure you're not identified. If the Front has someone here, we need to make sure they see you and take the bait."

"How will the Front know who I am?" Rose asked.

"That's where I come in. As Interpol, I'll leak through my office that Le Chat, aka Lilly Martin, has been identified. We'll also have an image of your released, one that utilizes one of your various disguises. That disguise is included in your go-bag as well," Dimitri responded.

"Okay, then it sounds like we're ready," Rose replied.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, Abe turned Rose to face him, His expression bore a more serious undertone. "Be careful, kiz. I love your mother, but I'm not willing to lose you too. Watch yourself," he said.

"You worry too much, old man. Don't worry, I've got this."

Rose turned to head out the door but felt the familiar tingle upon her skin as Dimitri reached for her wrist. Stopping, Rose turned to face him. Lifting her face up to his, she saw the worry lines along his brow and eyes. Laying her hand atop his, squeezed gently. She watched as he turned to give Abe a pointed look. Nodding in response, Abe and Pavel made their way quietly out the door. Once it was closed, she turned to look back up at Dimitri. "What is it, Comrade?"

Releasing her wrist, he ran a hand through his silken locks. "Roza, this isn't easy for me, but I need to tell you this, just in case." She nodded, indicating he should continue. "I don't know how or when, but I think I've started falling for you. I never imagined that I'd meet someone who could, with one look, break through the defenses I had built up. Hell, I have no idea how this could even work, but I really want to try." He reached up and cupped her face between his large, strong hands. "Tell me I'm not the only one."

"You're not," she whispered. Closing her eyes briefly, she sighed before replying, "However, this is who I am, or at least who I've become. Whatever I may want for myself, it's not possible right now."

"What is it you want, Rose? What is it, exactly, that you think you can't have?" he asked, leaning in closer.

Raising up until their lips were nearly touching, she breathed out, "You." In the next instant, they came crashing together. The sheer intensity of the kiss nearly eclipsed the feelings that coursed through her mind and body. She took those stolen moments with him to relish in how it might be if circumstances were different. For the first time ever she wanted something more.

Breaking away, she placed one last chaste kiss to his lips before she turned and slipped out the door.

* * *

Dimitri watched as she left the room, the taste, and feel of her lips a constant reminder of what was possible. It had been the revelation that she might not survive this mission of hers that had finally pushed him to realize how he honestly felt. Now he was watching her walk away, possibly for the last time. It took everything inside him to keep him from going after her – from stopping her. However, he knew she would never forgive him. This was mission was personal for her, and he knew nothing would stand in her way. Not even him.

He exited shortly behind her and caught sight as she stood next to her friends. While Lissa was speaking animatedly with an older couple, he saw Rose pull Christian aside slightly. They seemed to talk in hushed whispers, and Dimitri could see the flash of concern slip across Christian's face. He watched as Christian simply nodded, morosely before pulling Rose into a brief hug. With that, he saw Rose make her way upstairs before he lost sight of her at the top.

Walking toward his friends, he smiled warmly at Lissa as she met his gaze. She quickly returned to her conversation while Dimitri pulled Christian aside. "What did she tell you?" he asked quietly.

"Not much. Rose just asked me to make sure Lissa was okay," Christian replied. Dimitri could tell there was more but assumed it was of a more personal nature.

Nodding, he stepped back and looked around the room. He spotted Abe speaking with a man Dimitri recognized as a minor underworld figure in Europe. He assumed they were probably discussing other business.

Dimitri was busy nursing his scotch when he heard a ruckus outside. Motioning for Christian and Lissa to wait inside, Dimitri walked toward the front door. Opening it, he could hear shouting as several burly and well-armed men chased a smaller figure clothed all in black. Dimitri's heart froze as he took in the sight of one of the men raising his weapon. Shouting, Dimitri ran toward the man, announcing his credentials with Interpol in an attempt to distract the would-be shooter.

"That person just robbed our employer," the man bit out, nodding toward the escaping figure.

"Go contact the authorities. I'll attempt to apprehend. If it's who I think it is, this particular thief is wanted by Interpol," Dimitri replied.

"Fine," the man grumbled.

Dimitri bolted back inside, rushing up to Christian. "I need to borrow your keys," he pleaded.

Fishing them out of his pocket, Christian tossed them at him. "Be careful," he said.

Catching them, he nodded and ran back out the door. Climbing into the car, he sped down the road, hoping to catch up to Rose before anyone else. He was pulling down the street a bit when he spotted her car roaring down the entrance ramp to the highway. Pressing his foot to the gas, he worked to close the gap, eager to keep her from harm's way.

He was less than a quarter mile behind her when her car suddenly erupted in a ball of flames, the explosion rocking his own vehicle. Skidding to a stop, he watched in abject horror as the nearly obliterated muscle car rolled to a halt a few feet further. In the next instant, Dimitri flew out of the car, racing toward the inferno. Metal groaned, and small explosions continued to rock the wreckage. Dimitri felt his legs buckled beneath him as he collapsed to the ground. Except for the roar of the flames, the only other sound that could be heard was his guttural scream of her name.


	16. Chapter 16: Taken

**Hiya everyone *waves*. Well, I'm back from training. I actually did get some writing in, although this chapter is much shorter than usual. There just wasn't a right place to break, and the next section has quite a bit going on. Things are still hectic at work, so no guarantees on the next update time frame. I'm headed back to Chicago for the next phase of training at the end of October. This story should be wrapped up by then, hopefully.**

 **Thank you all for your good wishes, your patience, your favorites/follows/reviews. Love you all to the moon and back!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns the VA characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 16: Taken**

Her eyes slowly opened as she felt the cold seep through her clothes. She was still wearing the evening dress from the charity gala. The room was dark, illuminated by only a small, barred window high up on the stone wall. The clank of the metal brought her attention to the chains which bound her to the wall at her wrists and ankles. She couldn't help the chuckle at the cliché.

She listened carefully, both for any sounds outside, as well as any from behind the door. Straining, she thought she could make out a male voice speaking Farsi. While it didn't give her an exact location of where she was being kept, she had a feeling it was probable that she was somewhere in the Middle East. Slowly, she reached her right hand to her head and lightly rubbed the skin directly behind her ear.

Not a moment late, the heavy metal door groaned as it was pushed open. Rose's eyes widened imperceptibly as she took in the man standing in the illuminated doorway – Ethan Moore. _Well_ , she thought wryly, _this is undoubtedly going to piss off Tasha_. As the man stepped further into the room, Rose watched him closely. Seeing he came empty handed, Rose relaxed somewhat. Ethan wasn't a small man, but he favored couch surfing to anything bearing real physical activity. "So, does this mean things are over with Tasha?" Rose asked.

Ignoring her, Ethan pulled a nearby chair up closer to where Rose was standing. Grabbing a second chair, he placed it close enough for her to sit down as well. "Please," he said, motioning to the provided seat. Not willing to give in, Rose simply stood still, glaring at the traitorous man. Sighing heavily, Ethan pulled both chairs away before coming to stand in front of Rose once again. "Stubborn as always, I see. Never mind," he said, waving her off as if she were a nuisance. "I figured it was about time we had a talk. You've been nothing but a pain in my side and my operation for far too long."

Rose took a moment to comprehend what Ethan was saying. "Wait," she said, "are you trying to tell me that _you're_ the elusive leader of The Revolutionary Front?"

He continued as if she hadn't spoken, "All these little inconveniences you've contrived with the help of Mazur have only delayed the inevitable. The Front will soon be a force to reckon with, and there is nothing you or your little ragtag group can do to prevent it. We've already gotten rid of most of them. The only one left is your little friend, Mrs. Ozera."

"You touch one hair on her head, and they'll need a magnifying glass to put all the pieces of your body back together," Rose growled.

"Your empty threats are meaningless, Rose. However, be assured that we have no desire to harm an innocent like Lissa and her unborn child. Give us what we want, and she'll live to be a mother and maybe even a grandmother someday."

"What is it exactly that you think I have?" she bit out.

"It's not something _you_ have, but something that belonged to Lissa's mother. All you have to do is instruct her to hand over the item." Shrugging his shoulders, he turned and walked to the other side of the room. Leaning against the wall, nonchalantly, he said, "That's all there is to it."

Rose was quiet, as she processed the information. The R.F. was looking for something that Lissa's mother had possessed; something that was now in her best friend's custody. Raising her eyes to look over at Ethan, Rose said, "What does Rhea have to do with this?"

Standing straight away from the wall, Ethan marched toward Rose. His face was hard; his eyes a cold black. "That is none of your concern."

Rose's eyes studied the man in front of her. He was no longer the jovial, fun-loving goofball she had come to know over these many years. Now, instead, she saw a crazed zealot. "Well, I think it is my concern, given that I'm currently chained to a stone wall by some lackey."

She nearly laughed as she saw the momentary flash of surprise in his eyes before his costume slid back into place. "How dare you speak to the head of the Front in such a manner," he growled.

Rose didn't try to conceal the snort as she laughed. "Please, you're not man enough to lead an organization like this. My guess is you're just some peon who the real leader is hiding behind. I mean, from what Tasha used to say; if your lack of prowess in the bedroom is any indication, you definitely don't have the balls to lead an international terrorist organization."

The pain caught her by surprise as the back of his fist swung across her cheek. Stars danced before her eyes, and she could taste a bit of blood in her mouth. "You will watch your tone," Ethan said, he tone dark and menacing. His mouth formed a sinister smile as he said, "Besides, I'm not the only one who sleeps with someone to get information. Whoring yourself out to Belikov was so obvious. We probably did him a favor when we slit his throat. Put him out of his misery."

Rose felt the bile rise in her stomach at his words. She studied his face carefully, looking for any sign of deceit. Her heart lifted slightly as she took in the slight sheen of sweat on his brow and the difficulty he had in maintaining eye contact. "Well, even if I believed a word out of your traitorous mouth, it is neither here nor there. If you want what you believe I can get, you'll need to send in your boss. I won't deal with his pathetic excuse for a stand-in."

She steeled herself for the attack she knew would come but instead watched as Ethan lowered his hand at the instant beeping emanating from his pocket. Fishing out a phone, he looked at the screen, his expression that of a chastised child. Sheepishly he turned and exited the room without a word. Rose studied the room and quickly found the surveillance camera. Undoubtedly the real leader of the Front had been watching their little dance. Unable to resist, Rose smirked as she slowly raised her hand and brandished her middle finger.

* * *

Tasha and Mason stood inside a large, nearly vacant warehouse. The only furniture in the room was a metal table on which rested a computer monitor and keyboard. Before them sat a young woman with short blonde hair who was typing furiously at a keyboard. Her attention was laser-focused on the task at hand. Next to her stood Abe, his hand resting lightly on the back of her chair. Tasha focused her attention on the man. Given the current tension in the room, she couldn't be sure if his hand was there as assurance or incentive. Her eyes joined the other to focus on the large screen. Besides the clack of the keys echoing through the space, no other sound could be heard. It was as if everyone in the room were holding their breath.

A few more minutes later, but what felt like an eternity for the group, the computer emitted a constant pinging noise. They all let out a collective sigh as the screen, which displayed a map of the globe, showed a small, bright, flashing blip.

"Gotcha!" Tasha exclaimed.

* * *

The gray skies and light mist added an additional somberness to the moment. Dimitri stood in front of the fresh mound of dirt, barren of all markers. Dangling from his limp hand was a small spray of white lilies. After standing motionless for several minutes, he slowly lowered the flowers to the ground, laying them on top of the moist earth. Turning, he walked deliberately toward the waiting taxi. Slipping into the back, he instructed the driver before settling back in the seat.

Thirty minutes later the cab pulled up in front of Signature Flight Support at Dulles International Airport. Slipping the driver cash, Dimitri pulled his bags from the car and made his way inside. Approaching the welcome desk, he pulled out his credentials, before being informed his flight would be ready for departure in less than an hour. She pointed him down the hall to a small restaurant where Dimitri ordered a cup of coffee and picked up a nearby newspaper. Settling down in a nearby chair, he flipped through the local news section. His heart stuttered as he came across the story of a suspicious car accident that had occurred two nights earlier. An unidentified woman in her early to mid-twenties had died when her Dodge Challenger exploded. Investigators had yet to determine a cause. She had been identified through dental records as one Lilly Martin.

Dimitri crumpled the paper up tightly in his hand as he set it aside. Visions of the explosion played on a revolving loop through his head. His nightmares were filled with various scenarios of Rose's demise; none in which he succeeded in saving her life. In the hours that followed, he had tried repeatedly to learn whether Rose had in fact perished in the explosion. Mazur had disappeared that evening, and all of the conventional means of contacting the mobster had failed. Tasha, too, was radio silent; unwilling or unable to take his calls. Christian had sent him a brief text the next day informing him that he was taking Lissa away for a while, to protect her from the threat she apparently faced. Now Dimitri's only solace lay in his return to France and doing whatever he could to take down the Revolutionary Front. He knew that this had been a personal endeavor for Rose – now it was his. Dimitri swore that the bastard, who had taken her from him just as they had started to find one another, would pay with his life.

A young woman approached him. "Agent Belikov?"

"Yes," he responded.

"We're ready to board your flight. As luck would have it, you're the only passenger today. If you'll follow me?" she asked, before turning and walking down the hall. Rising, he followed her as they made their way to a door and exited out on the tarmac. Dimitri boarded Interpol's Dassault Falcon 7X and made his way into a nearby leather seat. Once the plane was in the air, he lay back and proceeded to drift off to sleep. He only prayed it would be one devoid of dreams.

Dimitri's flight landed approximately seven and a half hours later. It was just past ten in the evening as he grabbed his bags from the ground crew and made his way out to his car. Tossing his bags in the trunk, he slid behind the wheel and made his way onto the highway. He reached his apartment about thirty minutes later, exhaustion seeping from his bones. Leaving his bags inside, by the front door, he trudged into the bedroom and collapsed on to the bed. Once again, he hoped to have some respite from the violent images that would undoubtedly assault his mind.

* * *

He awoke, groggy and irritable, early the next morning. Rolling over, he slapped the annoying alarm, sending the offending device flying across the room. Falling onto his back, he threw his arm across his eyes letting images and memories come to him unbidden. First was her alter ego, Catharine, stunning but mysterious. She was wrapped in his arms as he moved them around the floor. Next was his first encounter with the real woman – the feisty smartass. Then he recalled their first time together in his hotel room. Eventually, the montage sped up, interspersed with all the little moments when he'd watch her surreptitiously or caught her eye across a room. It was the sound of her laugh or the fierce determination in her eyes that forced Dimitri to pull himself from his reverie.

Sitting up, he made his way to the bathroom. Grabbing a quick shower, he changed into some slacks and a black Henley before grabbing his belongings. His gun was hidden, as usual, in the shoulder holster under the lightweight jacket he threw over his shirt.

Pulling into the underground parking garage, Dimitri made his way upstairs, avoiding as many of his co-workers as possible. His mood was foul, and he knew it would sever everyone well if he avoided them as much as possible.

He was just about to close his office door, relieved he had made it without incident when he felt a force pushing against his hand. Opening it, he found Keren on the other side, moving past him. "Unless it's urgent, Agent Prinz, I'm really not in the mood," Dimitri ground out.

"Well it is, so get your shit together," she bit out, apparently in no mood to banter.

Sighing, Dimitri closed the door before taking his seat behind the desk. "What is it?" he asked, his voice weary.

"What the hell is going on?" Keren demanded.

"What do you mean?"

"You weren't supposed to be back until the end of the week. You never called after your meeting with Le Chat." Pausing, she eyed him steadily. "Plus, you look like total shit."

"How does of any of this require my immediate attention?"

"It's important because we have a mole to catch." She leaned across his desk, palms flat, and whispered, "I'm close, Dimitri. I'm tracking some anomalies in the communication systems."

Dimitri's expression hardened. "Good. Let me know what you find. Bring that information to me only," he said, his tenor cold and menacing.

"What about A.D. Croft?" Keren asked, surprised by Dimitri's tone.

"No. Once I determine the validity of the information, I'll make the call." He saw the concern on Keren's face. "Don't worry. I'll let Croft know – eventually."

"Okay, now you really need to spill. What the hell happened over there? What happened at the meeting?" Dimitri looked out the window, trying to determine how much he should share with his friend and co-worker. "Dimitri," Keren said quietly.

Looking back across the desk at her, he said, "What I tell you never leaves this room. Are we clear?" Keren simply nodded, her eyes widened. "Le Chat's real name is Rose Hathaway. She is…was a covert operative with the CIA."

Keren couldn't hide her surprise as she gasped. Confusion suddenly clouded her features. "You used the past tense. What do you mean?"

Dimitri looked back out the window. "She was killed the other night by a car bomb. I think it was the work of the Front."

Once again Keren let out a small sound of astonishment. "But, certainly news of a hit on a CIA agent would have made the rounds within the intelligence community. Why haven't we heard about this?"

He looked back at her. "Because she was Black Ops, so there's total deniability. As far as the world is concerned, Rose Hathaway isn't dead. However, if you were to search, you'd find an obituary for one Lilly Martin."

"Who the hell is Lilly Martin?" Keren queried.

"That was Rose's, I mean Agent Hathaway's, alias." He cringed as he saw the expression on Keren's face. He knew she would have caught on to his slip up. "Let it go, Keren."

"I knew you sounded different when we talked. I knew you were keeping things from me," she said, her voice soft and quiet. She studied him for a moment, causing Dimitri to shift uncomfortably under her steady gaze. "She's the one, isn't she?" she asked with slight wonder in her voice.

Dimitri's brow furrowed. "The 'one' what?" he asked.

With a small, sad smile, she responded, "The one who was able to break through all those damnable walls you built."

Dimitri found himself grinding his teeth, unwilling to let the pain of her words show. Of course, she was right. Rose had broken down nearly every wall he had created over the years. While they had known each other only a short time, he felt he knew her better than he possibly knew himself. He was also aware that she got him as well. They were two sides of the same damaged coin. Yet, he had thought that, had they had more time together, there could have been a real chance at something more – something more profound. Clearing his voice of the emotion that brewed beneath the surface, Dimitri replied, "It's beside the point now, isn't it?"

Keren's eyes were full of sadness now, which only drove Dimitri further into himself. He didn't want to deal with the what-ifs and could-have-been. What was done couldn't be undone. Rose was gone – dead. "I'm so sorry, Dimitri," he heard her whisper before she stood and walked toward the door. He saw her stop before walking out. Turning, she said, "I'll make sure we catch the son-of-a-bitch. You have my word."

After she had pulled the door closed behind her, Dimitri let out a long breath and rubbed his eyes with his fists. Glancing at the clock, he groaned, realizing he had only been at the office for less than thirty minutes. Dimitri rolled his shoulders before flipping on his computer and getting to work. He realized that more than anything, he needed to catch the Front's leader and put an end to his miserable existence.

* * *

"Christian," Lissa shouted from the room down the hall.

Christian stood from the sofa and moved toward the sound of her frantic voice. Stepping into the room, he found Lissa digging furtively through her bags. "What's up?" he asked.

She looked up at him, frustration evident in her expression. She blew a loose strand of blonde hair from her face before replying, "I can't seem to find my cell phone. Have you seen it anywhere?"

Christian kept his face neutral while he responded, "Nope, haven't seen it. Sorry."

"Well a whole lot of help you are," she said, exasperated. "I need to call Rose. I haven't heard from her since the party." Stepping over to where Christian stood, she held out her hand. "Let me use yours," she said.

Knowing this scenario might occur, Christian held out his empty hands. "I can't. I think I lost it at the party. I've already put in a request with the office to get me a new one," he said, hoping her built-in bull-shit meter didn't explode.

Lissa sighed heavily. "Fine, then I guess I'll just have run home and see if I can find mine," she said, walking toward the front door.

"No!" Christian shouted, moving to head her off.

Lissa's eyes were huge as she stared at him. She scoffed, "No?"

Placing both hands on her upper arms, he gently rubbed them as he smiled and said, "What I meant was that I'll go by the house and look for it. It's late, and you should rest. I'll just slip out and try and track it down, okay?"

His wife eyed him warily. "Fine, just don't take too long. Dinner will be ready soon."

Christian nodded before picking up his keys off the side table near the front door. "I'll only be about thirty minutes. Remember; don't open the door for anybody."

"I know, I know," Lissa said.

Giving her a stern look, Christian kissed her on the cheek. "I love you. I'll be back soon."

"I love you too," Lissa replied.

Christian opened the front door and then locked it behind him. They were staying in a less exclusive part of the city in a rarely used and little known FBI safe house. Only, to his wife it was a place the FBI assigned to visiting field staff. He had lied and told her they would be staying there because Tasha was going out of town and their own home wasn't quite ready to move back into.

As Christian exited the building, he thought back to the previous night and his conversation with Rose. She had pulled him aside at the party, her tone serious and forthright. "I need you to get Lissa someplace safe," she had whispered.

Christian had looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "What's going on, Rose?"

"I'm not sure exactly. All I know is that she isn't safe. You need to take Lissa someplace where no one will find you." She had slid a small phone into his hand. "Take this. It's a burner phone. Turn it on once a day for five minutes. I'll text you when it's safe."

Brought back to the present by a blaring car horn, Christian walked about five more blocks when he reached into his pocket and pulled out the cell Rose had given him. Powering it on, he felt disheartened to once again find no message from their friend. Christian waited five minutes before shutting it back off. Slipping it into his pocket, he walked down to a nearby corner grocery store. Picking up Lissa's favorite ice cream, he began the walk back to the safe house.

Approaching the building, he was about to put his key into the lock when he noticed the door give way. Dropping the bag, he fished his gun from the waistband of his slacks. Holding it out in front, resting it in the palm of his other hand, he cautiously stepped through the door. Hugging the walls, he made his way further inside. His stomach knotted as he saw various small pieces of furniture overturned. Finding no one on the main floor, he moved slowly up the stairs. After checking all the rooms there, he frantically rushed down the stairs and out the front door. Looking furiously up and down the street, he flipped the safety on the gun before shoving it back into its spot. Pulling out the burner phone, he powered it back up before placing a quick call.

"Dimitri, it's Christian. I need your help. Someone's taken Lissa!"


	17. Chapter 17: Decisions

**Yeah, so don't get too used to this. For whatever reason, this chapter just flowed out reasonably simple. Just a heads up, but we're looking at about three more chapters to this little tale before we reach the end. Might include a possible Epilogue.**

 **Thanks again to everyone who has stuck with me. Your reviews have kept me going. Love you all!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns everything else.**

* * *

**Chapter 17: Decisions**

Keren pulled her coat around her a little tighter, the fresh night air chilling her slightly as she stood in the darkened alley. She was watching as her target slipped out of the building and began walking down the lamp-lit street. Keren made sure to keep her distance, lest she give away the element of surprise. If her intel was right, the person who was casually walking several yards ahead of her would be meeting with a member of the Front. Keren had planted false information within Interpol's files, knowing the mole wouldn't be able to resist accessing and passing it along to their boss. She had been completely surprised by the identity of the traitor.

Keren's hands were in her coat pockets. The right one rested close to her gun, hidden just inside. The left hand fiddled absentmindedly with the thumb drive that held the incriminating files. She planned to witness and capture the meeting before handing over all the evidence to Dimitri. With it, she knew the mole wouldn't stand a chance. They would use it as leverage to pull out a confession from the person, as well as force them to confirm the identity of the Front's leader.

They had entered a more industrial part of the neighborhood and were now walking among various storage buildings and warehouses. It was late, so all the businesses were closed nearby, and there were no residences in the vicinity. Keren automatically closed her fingers around her gun a little tighter. She watched as the individual quickly turned between two buildings. Speeding up slightly, she moved to catch up, afraid she might lose sight of her target.

She realized her mistake when she turned blindly and heard the shot before she felt the burning in her stomach. Stumbling back, she fell against the stone wall of the building before sliding down slowly down the side. She watched as the shooter ran off back down the street, obviously certain Keren wouldn't be around to reveal their identity. She clutched the wound at her stomach, feeling the blood seeping between her fingers. With her other hand, Keren fumbled around until she found her phone. Pushing a quick series of buttons, she relaxed. The only thing Agent Prinz can do now was wait and hope that help arrived before it was too late. 

* * *

Dimitri's phone blared as he was just about to fall asleep. He had spent the day focused on finding out anything about The Front and its leader. With a dogged determination, he had studied every file, every map, and every news article and agency report. He had just returned to his apartment only a half hour earlier, weary and in desperate need of sleep. Flipping on the table lamp, he picked up the phone and swiped at the screen. "Allô," he mumbled.

"It's Croft," the older man said.

Dimitri shot up in the bed, his senses alert. Croft rarely called him, and definitely not late at night. Unless it was a matter of national, or international, security, he believed in leaving work at the office. "Sir?"

"I need you to get to Hôpital de la Croix-Rousse. Agent Prinz has been shot," Croft commanded.

Dimitri hung up the phone, not even thinking to acknowledge Croft. Grabbing his clothes from earlier, he threw them on before grabbing his belongs and rushing out the door. Once in his car, Dimitri sped down the roads, making it to the hospital in under ten minutes. He pulled into the front, ignoring the shouts of the gendarme as he rushed inside.

Pulling out his badge, Dimitri flashed it at the young woman behind the desk. "Agent Keren Prinz," he barked.

Looking at her computer, the woman then glanced up. "Oui, elle est en chirurgie," she replied. She then directed Dimitri to the surgical waiting room where she told him the staff would keep him posted on her progress.

Rushing up the stairs and down the halls, he finally found the mid-sized waiting room. At that time of night, it was vacant. Even though he was still exhausted, the adrenaline that coursed through his body wouldn't let him rest. He paced like a caged, wild animal. It took everything within him to keep from destroying the room in rage and frustration.

He whipped around not long after he arrived as he heard the door open. His shoulders, only moments before tensed and knotted, relaxed slightly at the sight of his co-worker and friend, Ivan. The briefly embraced before Ivan spoke, "What the hell is going on?"

Dimitri shook his head. "I have no idea. Croft just called and she he needed me down here, and that Keren had been shot."

Ivan shook his head. "Any idea what she was working on that would make her a sudden target?"

Shame coursed through Dimitri. He looked at Ivan, fearful what his friend's reaction would be. "She was following up on a lead."

Confusion showed clearly on Ivan's face. "Lead? Lead on what?" he asked.

Running a hand through his hair, Dimitri replied, "On the mole. She told me this morning she felt she was close to identifying them."

Ivan's eyes widened. "That's great. Why didn't I know about this? Why was she pursuing the lead by herself?"

"Because I told her not to say anything. I wanted to find out who it was and deal with it directly," Dimitri responded.

"Are you fucking insane?" Ivan asked, raising his voice slightly in astonishment. "What in the hell made you think that was a good idea?"

Dimitri, already on edge and angry with himself, moved closer to Ivan, their chests nearly touching. "Do not question my decisions, Agent Zeklos. Agent Prinz was doing as she was ordered to do; as she was trained to do."

Ivan backed off, raising his hands in surrender. "Yes, sir," he bit back.

Dimitri, realizing he had gone too far, sighed heavily. "I'm sorry," he said as he rubbed his hand over his forehead roughly. "I had no idea she would go out on her own. The last thing she told me was that she was getting close. If I had known…" he said, trailing off.

Ivan laid a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's not your fault, man. I'm sorry about what I said." Ivan blew out a breath, "So, what do you think she stumbled upon?"

"I have no idea. I've been out of the loop the last few days. We had stayed in contact while I was away, but Keren never gave me any details. I just got the impression she was still trying to narrow down the list of suspects." He paused, trying to get a firm grasp on the surge of emotions that were threatening to erupt. "I can't lose her, too," he whispered, his voice choked with fear.

"Hey, man, we're not going to lose her. Prinz is tough. She's fucking Mossad, remember?" Ivan said. He squeezed Dimitri's shoulder. Suddenly, he looked at Dimitri, an awareness dawning across his face. "Wait, what do you mean, 'too'?"

Dimitri winced internally. He knew this was a conversation he would eventually have to have with his friend, but Dimitri wasn't sure he was up for rehashing the last few days at that moment. "Can we talk about it later?" he asked Ivan.

"Sure, I suppose. Unless it has something to do with what happened to Keren," he replied. Dimitri simply stared at his friend, unable to find the words to start what he knew would be a long and involved tale. "Oh shit," Ivan whispered. "It's bad?"

Dimitri simply nodded before he began to regale Ivan with the story of his trip to the States and the subsequent return to France. By the time he was done, Ivan looked like he might be sick. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "Dimitri, I don't know what to say, man. Sorry just doesn't seem to cover it."

"Nothing to say," he said somberly. "This is why I'm hell-bent on catching this bastard. Especially now that he's hurt someone else I care about."

Just then the door to the waiting room opened, and a tall, slim man in scrubs entering quietly. "Monsieur Belikov?" the man asked.

"Yes," he said, approaching the man.

"I am Doctor Brodeur. I am Agent Prinz's surgeon," he said.

"How is she, doctor?" Dimitri asked as Ivan moved to stand next to him.

"She had come through the surgery, but she lost quite a bit of blood. There was some internal damage. We had to remove some of her spleen. For the moment, we have placed her into a medically induced coma to give her body time to heal."

Dimitri felt Ivan's hand clench his shoulder. He shot a side glance at his friend. Turning back to the doctor, Dimitri asked, "How long do you think she'll be in the coma?"

The man shrugged his shoulders slightly. "It is hard to tell. We will watch her closely. I am hopeful we can start to bring her out in a couple of days. After that, it will be up to her."

Dimitri nodded. "Thank you, doctor," he said.

"Certainement. A nurse will be in shortly to give you Ms. Prinz's belongings. Is there any family we should call?" he asked.

Dimitri shook his head. "I'll call what family she has. They all live in Israel."

The doctor just nodded and excused himself, leaving Dimitri and Ivan alone. Each man was lost in their own thoughts when the nurse arrived a few moments later. "Monsieur Belikov?" she asked.

"Oui," he said. She handed him the small bag. "Merci." She smiled gently before walking back out of the room. Dimitri sat down, while Ivan stared out the window into the night. Dimitri knew that most of her belongings, at least her clothes and gun, would have been taken by the police as evidence. He found her identification and badge inside and sat it on the seat next to him. Reaching into the small bag, his fingers found a small, hard plastic item nestled in the corner. Pulling it out, he instantly recognized the device.

Dimitri quickly placed everything back in the bag before standing. Shoving the bag into his pocket, he started for the door. "I've got to get to the office. Call me if anything changes."

"Wait, what?" Ivan shouted as Dimitri barreled out the door.

Dimitri raced down the hall until he was out front. As the hospital security guard came racing up to him, ready to make a fuss about his parking, Dimitri flashed his bag and shoved past the man. Unlocking the door, he slid behind the wheel before speeding off into the night.

Breaking ever speed limit posted, Dimitri made it to the Interpol offices in record time. Passing through the security gates, he made his way inside and up to his office. Powering up his computer, Dimitri pulled out the hospital bag and dumped the contents onto his desk. He quickly scooped up the thumb drive and plugged it into the computer. Dimitri tapped his foot impatiently for the files to open. He immediately clicked on the now accessible file folder. As he perused the contents, his eyes widened.

"Gotcha!" he yelled, slamming his fist onto the desk. 

* * *

Tasha gave an exasperated sigh as she pulled out her cell phone. Glancing down, she winced as she saw who was calling. Swiping at the screen, she answered brusquely, "What can I do for you, Agent Belikov?"

"It's about fucking time, Tasha. I've been trying to reach you," Dimitri ground out.

"Yes, well I've been a little busy, as you can imagine."

"Knock it off, Tasha. What the hell happened?"

"Agent Belkov, while I appreciate the assistance you provided, you are not a CIA operative, nor do you have the necessary clearance."

"Fuck that red-tape bullshit, Tasha. They killed Rose!" he shouted.

"I'm well aware of what happened, Dimitri," Tasha growled. "We are handling it."

"What if I were to tell you I had a way to get to the leader of the Front? What if I told you I knew the identity of the mole at Interpol?"

"Then I'd say you should apprehend them and join me in Turkey. Once you have the traitor, fly to Van Ferit Melen airport. You'll need to get a car to bring you to the village of Esendere, near the Iranian border," Tasha explained.

"What the hell is going on, Tasha? What aren't you telling me?"

"Sorry, old friend. Not something I can talk about over an unsecured line. Just get your ass here pronto, and I'll debrief you fully once you've arrived," she said before hanging up. Sighing heavily, she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Do you think it wise to involve Belikov," Mason said as they made their way to the plane.

"I think I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't," she said with a sad smirk. "Besides, if what Dimitri says is true, he'll make our job a whole lot easier. We might all come out of this alive." 

* * *

The sun had risen once again, warming her cell slightly. Rose hazard a guess she had been chained up for at least a couple of days. Ethan had come back a couple of times over the last twenty-four hours, but Rose had revealed nothing.

She sighed in exasperation as the door swung open yet once again. Ethan entered, carrying a laptop this time. Pulling over a small table from the hallway, he placed the laptop on it, just out of Rose's reach. She clenched her fists as she watched Ethan's smug demeanor. Adrenaline coursed through her at the thought of pummeling the man once she was free.

With a few clicks and swipes, Ethan stepped back, allowing Rose to get an unobstructed view of the screen. Lissa, in some sort of bedroom, was pacing and frantically pulling on an apparently locked door. Rose's heart clenched in fear, as the already present anger boiled to the surface. Looking up at Ethan, Rose glared at the man, her voice dark and foreboding. "If anything happens to her, I will-"

"You'll what?" Ethan interrupted. "You're in no position to do anything."

Rose's expression morphed. To the untrained eye, she might actually appear calm and at peace. In fact, for those who knew her, this was when she was at her scariest. Her gaze, hard and penetrating, held Ethan to the floor. "I'll put you in the hole," was all she said. She smirked as she saw him blanch and his eyes grow wide. The 'hole' was a legend within the CIA and a myth outside its ranks. To go there was a fate worse than death. Anyone unlucky enough to find their way there was never seen again. It was said that those that were placed in the 'hole' consistently wished for death.

From the corner of her eye, Rose saw the door to Lissa's room slowly open. Fixing her gaze on the screen once again, her own eyes grew wide as she took in the scene before her. "Oh no." 

* * *

Lissa rushed up to the man standing in the doorway. She threw her arms around him in relief. Lissa felt him returning the embrace. "Victor, where have you been?" she breathed out.

The man pulled back, a sad smile on his face. "I'm so sorry, my dear. It's taken a while to get things settled," he said, as two younger men, each carrying large guns, slid in behind.

She watched as the door closed again behind the three. Fear began to knot in her stomach as she took in everything. "What is going on?" Lissa asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, Vasilisa, I am truly sorry to have misled you like this, but it was the only way I could think of to get you away so that we could have a private conversation."

"I don't understand. Talk about what? Why couldn't' we talk in D.C.?"

Victor tapped his silver-tipped cane against the floor as he looked at her. "I won't bore you with the details, but I need something from you. Something your mother left behind when she died."

Still confused, Lissa replied, "But, why didn't you just ask me for it? You're a family friend. No, you're more than that. You're like an uncle to me. Of course, I would have helped you if I could."

He smiled softly, but his eyes held only pity. "How sweet, and I feel the same way. You are like the daughter I wish I had. Unfortunately, I couldn't risk anyone finding out that I was looking for this particular item. There were too many people in your life who would cause problems."

Lissa shook her head slightly, the confusion becoming overwhelming. "So, was it all a lie? You said Rose was hurt and that she needed me."

Victor shrugged his shoulders slightly, "It wasn't a total lie. Rose does need you, but she's alive and well. At least for now."

"What do you mean?" Lisa asked.

"Well, whether she stays that way is totally up to you, my dear. Once you tell me where I can find what I'm looking for, you and Rose will be free to go; no worse for wear."

Lissa narrowed her eyes at the man she had once considered family. "How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

Sighing, Victor pulled out a cell phone. Punching and swiping at the buttons and screen, he turned the phone around. A video of Rose could be seen, of her chained to a wall. Lissa's breath caught. She glanced up at him. "Oh, don't worry. She's perfectly fine. The chains are just a precaution. Our Rose tends to like to wreak havoc when she doesn't get her way." Turning the phone around, he pressed a button before slipping it back into his pocket. "So, does that answer your question?" he asked.

"What is it exactly that you want?" replied, not bothering to answer him.

"Your mother had something that belongs to me. I'm certain that after she died, it came into your possession. Unfortunately, my men were unable to locate it, hence the need to personally include you," he said, tapping the tip of the cane lightly against her shoulder.

A chill ran through Lissa as she took in his words. "You're behind the robbery at my house," she said.

Victor nodded. "I had hoped to find it without having to get you involved, but unfortunately that wasn't mean to be."

"Well, if it wasn't there, then I have no…" she said, her words dropping off as realization dawned. "I have no idea where whatever it is you're looking for could be," she said, finishing her statement. She cringed as she realized that Victor had seen right through her, however.

"Ah, my dear, I am well aware of the safety deposit box your mother kept. I also know that you visited it the night before the gala." He limped around behind her, as Lissa turned her head to keep him in her sights. "So, the only question is, did you remove it from the bank that night, and, if so, where is it now?"

"There were many items in that box. I would have no-"

Victor cut her off as he placed a phot in front of her face. It was one of she and Rhea; the one that had been taken from her home. Anger welled up within her. "You bastard," she grumbled.

The man had moved back around now and stood to her side. "Now, now, my dear. Such language." Holding the picture back a little, he gazed upon the images as well. "Ah, your mother was a true beauty. I was always a little envious of Eric. He really didn't deserve her. She was so smart. Unfortunately, she was a little too smart for her own good."

Lissa sliced her eyes to Victor. "What do you mean?"

He walked away, leaving her holding onto the photo. "What I mean is that if she had kept her nose out of my business, she would probably be alive today, ready to be a grandmother."

"You ki- killed her?" Lissa choked out, her hand clutching her stomach.

Victor shrugged as if he had just admitted to forgetting to put down the toilet seat. "It was unfortunate, but I certainly couldn't have her mucking up my plans. She was already working with Jeanine." He turned to face her once again, a look of sadness that made Lissa's skin crawl. "I'm just sorry Eric and Andre got caught in the middle."

Unable to contain her rage, Lissa leapt across the space, her hands clawing at Victor. She felt her nails scrape against his face as she screamed. Unfortunately, his men reacted quickly, and Lissa felt her arms pinned behind her back, and a rifle pointed at her face. She watched a Victor pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He patted and wiped at the blood that dotted his cheek. "You've just admitted you had my family murdered. Why would I believe anything you tell me now? Once I hand over whatever it is you're looking for, we both know I won't live to see tomorrow."

"I would do no such thing. You are with child my dear. Do you really think me a monster?"

Lissa shook her head in disbelief, realizing the man had truly lost his mind. "I don't have any idea what it is you're looking for."

Victor gingerly reached down and retrieved the picture that she had dropped. He held it out to her again. Cautiously, Lissa took it from him, gazing down at the image. "I want the locket," Victor said, his voice now cold and devoid of any emotion.

Lissa was suddenly taken back to the day at the spa. She recalled the fight they had in the car about Dimitri. Lissa had been disappointed that their time had been marred by such unpleasantness. Before they had left, Lissa had pulled Rose aside. "Rose, I am truly sorry if I upset you in the car. I hope you do know I only have your best interest at heart. I love you."

Rose had smiled and pulled Lissa into her arms. Hugging her tightly, she had replied, "I love you too, Lis." Pulling back, Rose had said, "I know you mean well, and I won't lie and say a lot of what you said was true." Seeing Lissa's hopeful expression, Rose had held up her hand. "However, while I promise to give what you said some consideration, I can't promise you anything will change, at least with regards to Dimitri and me."

Lissa had smiled and hugged her friend again. "That's all I ask, Rose. Just give whatever this is a chance." Pulling back, she had reached into her bag, pulling out a small, velvet box. "I was at the bank today, pulling out some jewelry to wear tonight, and I found this. I wanted you to have it," she said, placing the box in Rose's hand.

Rose had opened it, her eyes widening as she took in the contents. She had looked up at Lissa, her eyes moist. "Lissa, I can't. This belonged to your mother."

Lissa had smiled while removing the necklace from the case. "Yes, it was, and I know she'd want you to have it. Besides, I've made a small change." She pushed the button on the side, opening the locket. On one side was a recent picture of the Dragomir family, right before the accident. On the opposite side was a picture of Rose and Lissa, taken at their graduation.

Hugging Lissa tightly, Rose had let out a strangled, "Thank you."

The loud thud of Victor's cane rapping against the stone floor brought Lissa back to the present. "I have no idea where it is, if it's not in the bank," Lissa said, trying desperately to keep her voice calm.

Victor displayed the cold, evil smile that others had come to know but was new to Lissa. She shuddered as she watched him step closer. "You're not like the others, Lissa. You're a terrible liar." He moved toward the door, the two men backing away with him. He rapped his knuckles against the wooden door and then stood back as it swung open. As he was walking out, he turned back toward her. "I'll give you a few hours to think about my request. But, please, understand, should you refuse, I'll have no choice but to torture Rose in front of you until she's begging me for mercy."


	18. Chapter 18: AN Explanation

Grrrrr...so, there is nothing new here. I deleted my old A/N thinking I could just plug in the new chapter. Except people who reviewed the A/N can't review the new chapter. We'll see if this works.


	19. Chapter 19: Revelations

**TRANSLATION: Antareh gav – Annoying cow**

 ** **DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and Keren Prinz. Richelle Mead owns all the VA characters.****

* * *

 **Chapter 18: Revelations**

It was nearly eleven in the evening when Dimitri entered the small hotel room in Esendere. His fingers bit into the soft flesh of the arm of the person beside him. Rapping the knuckles of his free hand against the door, he shoved his companion quickly through the door as it opened. As Mason Ashford caught the free-falling body, Dimitri deadpanned, "I think you ordered one traitorous mole?"

Mason looked down at the young woman before looking back at Dimitri, a combination of surprise and admiration shading his features. "Is this who I think it is?" he asked, awe tinting his voice.

"One and only. Meet Natalie Dashkov, daughter of the billionaire philanthropist, and apparently international terrorist, Victor Dashkov."

"Please, I've already told you, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Natalie cried, tears staining her cheeks. Her glasses were now askew on her round, doll-like face.

Dimitri simply rolled his eyes in exasperation. He had found Natalie at the Lyon–Saint-Exupéry Airport, about to board a one-way flight to Kazakhstan. She had sworn she was just going to visit an old friend, even going as far as to show Dimitri a photo of her and the so-called friend together. He had to hand it to the woman. For someone so young, she was terribly adept at lying.

He left her with Mason, while he walked further into the room. He approached a small table where Tasha was leaning over, intensely studying a large computer monitor. She looked up, a small smile on her lips. "Glad you could make it so quickly," she said as she turned around to glance back at Mason. "And I see you brought me a present." Looking up at Dimitri, she gave him a quick wink.

"You can have her, as long as I get her boss," he said, his voice void of humor.

"Oh, no worries there. We all want a piece of Dashkov."

"Please, I've done nothing. I don't know what it is you think I've done, but I promise you, I'm innocent!" Natalie cried.

Dimitri looked over at Tasha while he fished out the thumb drive from his pocket. Holding it up, he said, "May I?"

"By all means," she replied, waving her hand at the computer.

It was then that Dimitri noticed the young woman seated in front of the computer. He nearly did a double take as he recognized her from the various surveillance photos. "You're Mia Rinaldi," he said, his hand hovering over the desk.

The young woman smiled. "You're Agent Belikov. I've heard a lot about you," she replied, her smile turning into a smirk. "Way more than I ever wanted or needed, actually," she mumbled as she reached for the drive.

Uncertain of her meaning, he just handed her the flash drive. "If you could pull up the files on here, there are several surveillance photos and videos I'm sure Ms. Dashkov would be interested in," he said turning to glare at the woman standing behind him.

After a few clicks of the mouse and strikes of the keys, Mia had the requested data pulled up and queued. "Let's start with the previews, shall we?" he said, pointing to a particular set of files.

Mia double clicked the first, which appeared to be an email. Everyone in the room scanned the contents before turning to glare at Natalie. Mason shoved the young woman forward to afford her a better look at the apparent evidence. She merely turned her head, unwilling to play along. The email, which had been encrypted, contained the plans for the Paris mission, along with all the files and information on Le Chat.

"How about the main event, hmmm?" he said, pointing to the video file. "I think this one has to be my favorite. Not because of the subject matter, really. It's more the fact that for someone who thought they were so smart, Natalie turned out to be so stupid."

Mia clicked on the file Dimitri indicated while everyone else watched with rapt attention. Turning to Natalie, he said, "My team came across this gem right before I apprehended you." The grainy black and white video began to play. It was clearly security camera footage. While it wasn't Interpol quality, it was of high enough quality to make out Natalie Dashkov shooting Agent Keren Prinz. Dimitri watched Natalie's face as she took in the footage. He relished in the marked fear that now shown in her eyes. He knew he had her.

Dimitri stalked up to the young woman. She was small in stature, made more so by her demeanor, but as he grew closer, he watched as she stood up straighter, gaining at least another few inches. No longer was Natalie the meek and timid little mouse. Her gaze was now steely as she held his own. "Oh, looks like someone's upset I took away their plaything?" she purred with a wicked smile.

Before anyone could move, Dimitri had the woman pinned up against the heavy door, his hand around her throat. His eyes were pitch black and filled with rage as he looked down at Natalie. It was taking all his self-control to keep from tightening his grip. "I guess I was right," she said, the smirk still plastered to her lips.

Dimitri reached down, grabbing her by her shoulders with both hands. With seemingly little effort, he lifted her to her feet before pinning her to the door. "Don't worry, I've got a new _thing_ to play with," he replied menacingly. "Besides, you're an awful shot. Agent Prinz survived, and you will be happy to know she'll be around to watch you rot in prison."

She laughed; a maniacal sort of laugh that sent chills down the spine. "Well, while I'm flattered, Agent Belikov, I think you're going to be otherwise engaged."

Dimitri smiled back, one that didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, don't worry, you raving bitch. Once I've put your father in the ground, I'll have plenty of time to devote to making you suffer."

"So, it sounds like you'll be too busy to rescue your paramour then, I guess."

Dimitri froze, his hands tightening. His knuckles were white; his face inches from hers. "What are you talking about?" he ground out.

Natalie laughed her sick, twisted little giggle. Leaning her head to the side, she looked over at Tasha. Dimitri watched her as she raised her eyebrows before saying, "So, you didn't tell him?" She looked back at Dimitri, grinning her evil little smile. "Oh, this is going to be good."

Shoving her, he pushed her toward Mason, who readily caught hold and kept her restrained. Dimitri turned, marching over toward Tasha. "What the hell is she talking about?" he demanded, pointing at Natalie.

"This is why I wanted you here. What I couldn't tell you over the phone. We're fairly certain that Rose is alive, Dimitri."

Dimitri felt his legs grow weak. He rested a hand on the back of Mia's chair. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"The day before the gala, Rose contacted me. She told me about Abe's idea; about their plan. At first, I was against it, but they were both very persuasive."

Dimitri, looking confused, asked, "Wait? You mean Abe knew about this plan as well?"

"Of course. We needed his contacts and reputation to pull it off. With a mole inside both agencies, we couldn't exactly use our resources to set the trap," Tasha explained.

Dimitri simply shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around what she was saying. "So, what happened?" he asked.

"We implanted a DARPA tracking chip behind her ear. We picked up the signal at Langley yesterday. While there's an off chance it was activated some other way, more than likely Rose activated herself. She was to do that once she was firmly embedded inside the Front's location."

"So, the explosion, after the party?"

"A set-up by Dashkov He wanted us all to believe she was dead. We actually thought she might have been in that car. That is until the tracker came up."

"So, you've known it was Victor Dashkov this whole time?" he said, raising his voice.

"No, but we suspected. It wasn't until the party that we grew more certain when Dashkov fell off the map after Rose's car exploded." She nodded over at Natalie. "It wasn't until you brought her here that it's confirmed our suspicions."

"So, where is she being held?" he asked, the lead weight that had been on his chest these last few days suddenly feeling lighter.

"It appears to be a sparsely populated village just across the border in Iran. We've got an extraction plan. We're just waiting for our local help to arrive."

As if on cue, the door opened, revealing Abe Mazur. "Ah, Dimitri my boy, glad you could join us. I knew you'd want to be a part of this," he said, clapping Dimitri on the back.

Dimitri glowered as he watched the flamboyant mobster move into the room. Stalking up to the man, he stood toe to toe, his brown eyes now steely black. "You knew about this?" he ground out.

He watched as Abe sighed, his jovial mask replaced by one that resembled remorse. "Yes, my son, I did. I apologize for keeping you out of the loop. It was Rose's idea. She knew you'd be against it, and she also wanted to protect you. She was afraid that the Front might come after you." Abe chuckled and shook his head. "Our girl can be quite persuasive when it suits her, yes?"

Dimitri couldn't help but smile slightly as he thought of Rose and her tenacious nature. He sobered quickly as he realized that if they didn't act soon, he might possibly lose any chance to get enjoy that, plus all her other traits. "We'll talk about this later," Dimitri said.

"Fine, fine," Abe said, waving his hand dismissively. "My men are ready, and I've secured transportation." Glancing at his watch, he continued, "It is nearly midnight. I think it would be better to leave under cover of darkness, making it harder to detect our movements."

While Mason secured Natalie, Abe slid up next to Tasha. Dimitri moved closer, insistent on staying apprised of all aspects of the mission. "So, I was finally able to determine who the mole is at the CIA," he said. As both Dimitri and Tasha rolled their eyes at the man respectively, Abe said, "Besides mine, obviously."

"I already know," Tasha said.

Both Abe and Dimitri stared wide-eyed at the woman. "Who is it, and how long have you known?" Dimitri asked.

"For a while," she replied. "I kept him close to keep tabs on him. He was able to feed false information to Dashkov, so he served a purpose."

"Who the hell is it, Tasha?" Dimitri asked once again, grabbing her arm.

"Ethan," she replied. Pulling her arm gently from his grip, she looked into his eyes, her own reflecting the regret and confusion he was sure was in his own. "It's Ethan."

Stunned, Dimitri took a step back. Of all the people he could have suspected, Ethan Moore would have been last on his list. Dimitri had known the man for years and had considered him a friend. To know he had not only betrayed their friendship and his country, but also Tasha caused Dimitri's blood to boil. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Tasha nodded. "We intercepted a communique between him and the Front. It seems in their exuberance to catch Le Chat, they got sloppy."

"So, where is he? I assume you have him in custody," Dimitri stated.

"We're not entirely certain as to his current whereabouts. We suspect he's on the run and might possibly be with Dashkov as we speak," she replied.

A moment later there was a quick rap at the door. Mason moved toward it, opening it cautiously. Dimitri couldn't hear what the person at the door said, but Mason stepped aside after a moment. "Ah, my friend, so good to see you," Abe said, walking up quickly to the man now standing inside the doorway. He was dressed in typical Iranian military fatigues, which would have been imposing had it not been for the smile that grew on his face. Dimitri watched as the two men embraced and greeted each other. Stepping back, Abe turned to the others in the room. "This is Colonel Farhad Kharrazi of the Armed Forces of the Islamic Republic of Iran." Slapping the man on the back heartily, he said, "He'll be assisting in our entering Iran."

The man looked over the ragtag group, eyeing each with some trepidation and suspicion. Turning to Abe, he asked, "This is your team?"

Abe sighed, "I know, but I can only work with what I have. I actually have a few men waiting outside with the vehicles and other gear. We were just waiting for you, good friend."

The man nodded brusquely. "Very well." Turning to face the others he said, "We will leave momentarily. We will be entering Iran and traveling to a small compound near Siarak. My sources tell me that there has been increased activity there over the last week or so."

Abe nodded and then turned to the others. "Tasha, you will take Dimitri, Agent Ashford and that, "he said, waving in disdain in Natalie's general direction, "in one of the vehicles. My team and I will follow in the other."

"I assume you have a way to get us into the country?" Dimitri asked, addressing the colonel.

The man smirked, "Most assuredly." Turning to Abe, he said, "I will see you at the border, my friend. He then turned and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Dimitri turned to Abe. "You are certain we can trust him?" he asked, nodding toward the now closed door.

"With my life, my boy."

Five minutes later they were downstairs and preparing for departure. The trucks were full of produce; however, Dimitri was impressed to find that there was a false bottom to the bed of the trucks. This allowed the teams to lie beneath the floor, hidden from the border patrol that would inspect the vehicles. Natalie had been gagged and was nestled between Dimitri and Mason. Dimitri had his gun resting against her side, lest she decide to reveal their hiding place.

Everyone braced themselves as the trucks lurched forward, making their way toward their destination. As they rolled again to a stop a few moments later, the group tensed, listening intently to the voices outside. Dimitri pushed the muzzle of his gun deeper into Natalie's side. Everyone froze as the voices grew closer. They could hear crates being shifted around directly above them, and the sounds of dogs barking nearby. It wasn't until he one of the border guards gave the trucks the all clear that Dimitri let himself slightly relax.

As they drove further into the Iranian countryside, Dimitri let his mind wander to Rose and the revelation that she might very well be alive. He felt that clench in his stomach again at the thought of seeing her – of holding her. Dimitri realized that if she, in fact, alive, he would do everything in his power to ensure her release and safety. Dimitri also realized that if and when he had her in his arms, he would never let her go.

* * *

It had been a few hours since Rose had watched the scene unfold between Lissa and Victor Dashkov. Ethan had retired shortly afterward, leaving Rose to work on a plan of escape. Now that she knew Lissa was in danger, her plans had become more complicated. She had no way to communicate with Tasha and her father. No way to let them know the plans had changed. If they came in with guns blazing, Rose feared Lissa could be caught in the cross-fire.

Rose pulled against the chains, once again, testing their bonds. As she glanced up in the corner of the room at the camera, she realized that even if Rose did manage to escape, she would never make it to Lissa or out of the area undetected. She would have to wait for a distraction which would hopefully come in the form of her imminent rescue.

Her eyes focused on the door as she heard it open, the hinges creaking against the weight of the dense wood. She rolled her eyes as she watched Ethan saunter in, still carrying his false air of bravado and superiority. She was looking forward to "apprehending" Ethan once the others arrived. Her report would reflect, of course, that Ethan had resisted, making the physical wounds he would end up suffering all the more reasonable. The thought brought a smile to Rose's lips as Ethan approached.

He eyed her warily. "What's so amusing?" he asked.

Still smiling, Rose replied, "Nothing. I'm just imagining how much fun I'm going to have when I get free from these chains."

Even as he snorted in derision, Rose had to stifle a laugh as she watched him move a few steps back. "Don't waste your time. You should be more worried about meeting Victor's demands. Otherwise, something very unpleasant might happen to Lissa," he replied, trying to sound threatening.

Rose's expression morphed quickly, and she could tell from the fear that arose in his eyes that it had its intended effect. Pulling forward on her manacles, she leaned toward Ethan. "If even one strand of hair on her is harmed, I will make your last hours on Earth a living hell," she said menacingly.

Ethan's eyes had widened before he coughed nervously. "Yes, well just give us what we want, and no harm will come to her," he replied, looking slightly remorseful.

Rose, seizing upon the spark of regret, pleaded with him, "Ethan, just let her go, and I'll do whatever you want. I know you don't want anything to happen to Lissa." Seeing she hadn't lost him yet, she continued, "Ethan, I know you would never want her or her baby to be harmed. You're not that kind of man. You were…are a good friend to us all. I know you wouldn't want to be involved in anything that would cause Lissa or Christian any pain. Please, let her go. You have me. I'll get you whatever you need if you'll just help Lissa."

Hope sprung within Rose as she saw Ethan contemplating what she had said. He was pacing slowly back and forth in front of her, weighing her words. Her heart fell, however, when Ethan stopped. His shoulders slumped as he ran a hand through his hair. Cocking his head to look at her, he said, "I feel bad that Lissa was caught up in all of this, especially now that she's pregnant. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do. It's too late. It's too late for any of us."

"What if I told you I had what Dashkov is looking for? Would you help Lissa then?"

Ethan gazed at Rose, wariness, and trepidation apparent in his features. "How do I know you're not lying just to help her?" Ethan asked.

"Believe what you want, but I can deliver what Victor is after." Seeing his uncertainty, Rose continued, "Just tell him I've got it, and once I know Lissa is safe, I'll turn it over to him." She hoped Ethan would buy the lie.

Rose watched as the man regarded her closely, apparently trying to assess her sincerity. "Wise decision," he finally said, apparently believing her proclamation. Turning Ethan made his way to the door. Opening it, he twisted around before exiting, saying, "I'll let Victor know, but, Rose, be warned. If you are lying or try to mislead him, Lissa will suffer the consequences."

Rose jerked against the restraints, eager to wrap her hands around his throat. Yes, she thought, she would very much enjoy taking him into custody when all was said and done. Rose looked around the room for what seemed like the hundredth time, hoping to find something to assist in her escape. Glancing once again at the camera in the cell, she realized she would have to risk detection. Maneuvering her arms, Rose shifted her left hand surreptitiously until she was able to dislocate the bones in her thumb. Blocking out the pain, she managed to pull her hand from the heavy metal around her wrist. Now, all she had to do was wait. She knew she wouldn't have much time.

Luckily Rose didn't have to wait much longer. As she heard the keys in the lock, she hid her now free hand and chain behind her. A young man dressed in standard RF uniform came in carrying a tray with some water and tadeeg. The sweet, burnt aroma of the saffron rice dish filled her nostrils, bringing small, but persistent grumbling sounds from her stomach. She was quite hungry, having refused anything after her abduction. She wouldn't have put it past Dashkov to drug her.

She watched him slip the keys into his pocket as he moved further inside, closing the door behind him before he set the tray down next to Rose. It was the opportunity Rose had been waiting for, and while he was still kneeling down, his attention focused on his task, she whipped the chain out with her free hand, slamming the shackle against his head. Rose quickly fumbled to reach his pants pocket. Glancing at the door briefly, she felt relief flood through her as her fingers grasped the cold metal ring.

Pulling the key ring out, she set to work unlocking the remaining chains. Once free, she fished out the gun from the holster at the man's waist. Checking the chamber and clip, she found she had a full magazine. She pulled the soldier over toward the wall and quickly secured his hands and feet. The dirty piece of cloth that had once covered her eyes and now lay discarded on the floor caught her eye. Picking it up, she slipped it between his lips, past his teeth and secured it behind his head. She figured that might buy her a little bit of time.

Creeping to the door, she leaned against it, trying to make out any sounds from the other side. After a few seconds of silence, she slowly opened the door and peered through the opening. Seeing no one, she cracked it open further and glanced furtively down the hallway. Again, there seemed to be no one around. With her sense heightened from years of training, she slipped out the door and crept down the hallway.

As she was coming to an intersection, she caught voices coming from around the corner. Steeling herself against the stone wall, she listened to the conversation. They were speaking Farsi, but she was able to understand most of what they were saying.

"How much longer do you think he will keep her around?" one man asked his tone one of disdain and disgust.

"As long as the commander wants, so get used to it," the other man bit out.

Rose heard the other man snort in derision. "How can one get used to such a woman. She has been nothing but a thorn in all our sides."

"Quiet, you fool!" the other man hissed. "Do you want him to hear you second-guessing him? Just keep your thoughts to yourself and do your duty."

Hope swelled within Rose. She hadn't expected to find Lissa this quickly. Adrenaline coursed through her body and she formulated a plan to quietly dispatch the guards. Using the gun she had appropriated from the other guard would undoubtedly alert others to her escape. She would have to create a diversion, separating the men from one another so she could take on one at a time.

It was a noise behind her that had Rose jumping into the shelter of a nearby doorway. Peering around the corner, she saw a woman exiting a room a few doors down. Making certain the way was clear, Rose made her way toward the same door. With the gun in one hand, she slowly twisted the handle before inching the door open. Peering into the room, she breathed a sigh of relief when she was it as unoccupied. Slipping inside, she quietly closed it behind her before perusing her surroundings. It was a small chamber, much like her cell, but was apparently a bedroom for one of Dashkov's lackeys. Rose moved quickly to the tall, wooden cabinet and pulled open the doors. She smiled as she ran her hand of the item that hung before her.

A few moments later, Rose stepped out of the room and into the still empty hallway. She walked gingerly back toward the room with the two guards, her head bowed. Rose carried a ceramic water pitcher and cup on a tray, her gun hidden from sight beneath. Taking a cleansing breath, she turned the corner and walked toward the two men still standing watch. The burka covered her from head to foot, the only thing visible were he eyes. "What do you want, woman?" the older guard asked.

With only a little effort, Rose slipped into character, her accent, as usual, flawless. "The commander sent me to check on the prisoner," she replied.

Rose held her breath as she watched he older guard studying her. After a few seconds, he merely nodded and turned to open the door. "Be quick and careful." Pushing it open, he spit on the ground before mumbling a swear, "Antareh gav."

Rose tightened the grip on her weapon, forcing herself to move into the room and not put a bullet in the man's head. "I will be careful," she muttered before waiting for the man to close the door behind her. Once she heard the click, she set the tray on a nearby table and glanced around the room. It was much like her cell – barren and cold. A pile of straw lay on the floor, and a small figure huddled beneath a ragged, grey woolen blanket.

Rose moved quickly, kneeling next to the figure. Reaching out, she touched the slight figure beneath. Shaking gently, she started to wake her friend but was interrupted before she could utter a word. A hand shot out from beneath the material and wrapped around her wrist. Caught off guard momentarily, she felt herself pull across and against the wall. The person beneath the blankets was suddenly upon her, their forearm pressing against her throat. "Move or speak, and I'll crush your throat," the woman's voice growled.

Rose looked up at the woman, her expression morphing quickly from surprise to confusion, to awe. Her eyes widened, she whispered, "Mom?"


	20. Chapter 20: The Rescue

**No, this is not a figment of anyone's imagination. This is an honest to goodness update. I know...I know. *hangs head in shame***

 **While I can't guarantee the next and final chapter will be forthcoming any sooner, I will do my darnedest to get it written before years' end.**

 **Thank you all for sticking with me and this story, and for all the new readers. I love you all!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Richelle Mead owns the characters, while I own the rest.**

* * *

**Chapter 19: The Rescue**

Rose lay there, stunned as she looked into the face of a ghost. With a quick appraisal, Rose found her mother's face gaunt and her eyes sunken. Her once vibrant red hair was dull and streaked with gray. Almost in unison, they embraced one another, Rose holding on to Janine tightly, lest she vanish.

With her face pressed tightly against her mother, she whispered, "I thought you were dead." She could feel the sting behind her eyes and fought to keep the tears at bay. She knew the moment wasn't the time to lose her composure.

Janine squeezed Rose tightly. "I almost was a few times." She chuckled low. "You'd be surprised how little a sense of humor these terrorists seem to possess."

Rose smiled slightly, recalling her mom's penchant for stirring up trouble. Janine was tough both physically and mentally. She could convince a robber baron to donate all his wealth to charity if she set her mind to it. Her wit was also sharp, honed since her youth. Rose smiled again when she realized how happy she now was to have that same bite and strength. Pride swelled within her as she realized how her mother must have struggled all these years and yet had managed to get the drop on her so quickly.

"You do realize," Rose whispered, "that tongue of yours is going to get you killed one of these days."

"It hasn't yet," her mother replied. "I don't intend to let it now." Janine pulled away slightly, searching Rose's face, her eyes flicking back and forth. With a weak smile, she said, "You have grown up into such a beautiful, young woman."

Rose felt her cheeks heat slightly at the compliment. Her mother wasn't one to dole them out readily. She wasn't quite used to hearing something so endearing from the battle maiden. "Well, I guess I get it from you and…" she said, dropping off as she realized she was about to mention Abe.

Janine looked at Rose, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And?"

Rose couldn't help it and rolled her eyes. Seeing the stern look on her mother's face, she replied, "I was going to say Abe." Before Janine could offer a biting retort she knew would come, Rose continued, "Yes, I know about Abe. I know he's my father. He's the reason I'm here, actually. He's the one who told me you might be alive. We came up with a plan to try and rescue you."

For a moment, Janine sat there, her eyes wide. However, it didn't take long for them to turn steely as she muttered, "You're asinine, low-life, criminal father talked you into trying to rescue me. He put your life at risk?"

Rose once again rolled her eyes. "Please. Like he could stop me? Did you forget who my mother is?"

Rose saw a twitch at the corners of her mother's mouth, knowing she was trying to suppress a laugh. Growing somber again, Janine said, "Still, this was a fool-hardy exercise, young woman. I had things perfectly in hand."

Rose eyed her mother with blatant skepticism. "Oh really?" she whispered. "So, it's been your plan to stay captive and presumed dead for all these years? How exactly is that going?"

"Watch your tone with me, young lady. I may be a bit older, but I can still put you over my knee." They stared at one another for a second before they both broke into quiet laughter. "Fine, fine. I'm sure you could probably take me at this point. Regardless, you shouldn't underestimate your mother." Starting to rise up, she pulled Rose with her. "So, tell me about this ingenious plan."

Rose quickly filled Janine in, also highlighting her entry into the CIA and the fact that Lissa was now being held captive as well. Janine's eyes grew slightly moist at the news. "Oh, that poor girl. First her family and now this. Her mother was so brave. I look forward to sharing that with her once we've rescued her and gotten out of this hell hole."

Rose squeezed her mother's arm. "I know she'd love to hear everything. But, for now, we need to get you out of here and go find Liss."

"How do you plan to get past the guards outside?" Janine queried.

"Well," Rose started to reply before they both rushed to the door as the sounds of bodies shuffling about noisily in the hall. Shouts could be heard coming from multiple locations. Rose pressed her ear against the door, trying to learn what was happening.

"What is it?" Janine whispered.

Rose held up a finger as she continued to take in the various cries and shouts. As she was turning to her mother, they both jumped at the sound of gunfire echoing throughout the camp. Rose lifted her finger, "That," she said. "Apparently, the camp is under attack." Rose smiled, "If I were to guess, I'd say that's your man coming to our rescue."

Janine scowled and huffed, "He's no man of mine."

Rose simply patted her mother's arm gently, as if trying to calm a spooked animal. "Sure mom, whatever you say."

Rose turned back to the door and slowly turned the handle, Pulling the door slightly ajar, she peered out into the hallway. Pulling it open further, she saw that the guards were now gone. Grabbing Janine's hand, she pulled them into the hall and moved down the corridor toward the central part of the complex.

As they snuck along the now barren halls, occasionally ducking into alcoves or empty rooms to avoid a soldier rushing by, Rose whispered, "So, how exactly was Rhea involved?"

"You think now is really the time to talk about this?" Janine whispered harshly.

Rose shrugged her shoulders while she scanned the corridor ahead of them. "Why not. It'll pass the time until we find where they have Lissa." As they had moved along, they checked various rooms, all empty.

"Fine," Janine huffed. "As you know, Rhea was CFO of Dragomir Industries. Shipping was their focus. One day, she came to me. She said she had been doing an audit of their financials and had found some inconsistencies with Viktor Dashkov's shipments."

"Did she know you were with the Agency?" Rose asked.

Janine nodded. "Yes, but she thought I was just an analyst. When I told her I would pass the information along to the authorities, she insisted on helping out. I tried to get her to leave it alone, but she was a very stubborn woman."

Rose could hear the melancholy in her mother's tone. Rhea had indeed been stubborn but in all the right ways. She fought for those who couldn't fight for themselves and abhorred injustice of any kind. "Yes, she was pretty special," Rose whispered.

They crept down the halls for a few minutes, each checking empty rooms. In one, they were surprised to find a cache of weapons lying unguarded. Rose picked up a lightweight semi-automatic rifle and handed her mother a second one. They both checked the magazines, making sure they were loaded before slipping back into the hall.

Janine continued speaking as she and Rose moved along once again. "The CIA sanctioned me to be Rhea's contact. Shortly before her death, she confided in me that she was going to collect all the damning information on Viktor and put it onto a micro card. She planned to keep it safe, keeping it close to her at all times."

"But no one ever found it after she died," Rose exclaimed in hushed tones.

"It was her locket. You know the one you always admired?" Janine asked, a sad smile playing at her features. Rose's eyes grew wide as she stared at her mother. "What?" Janine asked, looking around for signs of danger.

Rose's memory flashed back to the day of the party.

"The locket. I was wearing it when they took me," Rose said breathlessly.

Janine reached out, grabbing Rose's arm. "Where is it?" she demanded.

Rose shook her head. "I'm not sure. It was gone when I came to. I assume Viktor has it." She gasped, "You don't think Viktor knows the evidence is there, do you?"

Janine sighed, "I don't know. He's ruthless, maniacal, but brilliant. I wouldn't put it past him." Rose could hear the defeat in her voice. "If he does," she continued, "we have to find it. If he escapes, we'll have no way to prove anything."

"Maybe not about whatever Rhea discovered, but we'd at least have him for the kidnapping of you and Liss."

"Yes, but that's only if we capture him. Like I said, he's brilliant. No doubt he'll have a way to escape any attempt to apprehend him. Even if we revealed to the world who he truly is, he could still evade the authorities and continue to reigning down terror."

Rose nodded grimly before continuing to lead the pair down the hallway towards the center of the building. Her eyes were now sharp and focused. "If he's harmed Lissa in any way, he won't have to worry about the authorities. I'll end him myself." 

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, Dimitri and the rest had finally arrived at their destination. After putting several miles between themselves and the border, the truck had pulled off the dirt road. The hidden cargo had extricated themselves and were bouncing along the hard, wooden planks that lined the back of the vehicle. The plan was for Abe to escort a bound and gagged Natalie to the front of the compound and announce he was there to trade the young heiress for Rose. While the guards were distracted, the rest of the team would surround and infiltrate the compound, looking for Rose, Janine, and Lissa.

Everyone jumped out of the truck a half-mile before the compound gate, hiding behind the rocky terrain. They would slowly make their way to the location on foot. Abe, Natalie, and the driver continued on toward their final destination.

The moon hung low in the sky, illuminating the rocky, dry terrain. Dimitri cursed inwardly, knowing they would have to stick to the stone outcrops as they made their way to the encampment. They were moving at a steady pace, but with the bright glow of the nearly full moon shining down like a spotlight, they weren't able to take the most direct route. He knew they would be losing precious minutes. Abe would wait until he received the signal from Dimitri's group before he approached the gates with his unwilling accomplice.

As they moved along, closer to their target, Dimitri tried to keep his mind from wandering to Roza and the hell she might be facing in the hands of Dashkov. His gripped tightened around the rifle, trying not to image the tortures Viktor or his men might inflict. His back teeth clenched as he pictured what he would do to the man if he even saw Roza with a scratch. At the thought of her, desire and something deeper clawed at his gut. Just the recollection of how he had felt when he had thought she had died sent a wave of nausea through him, followed quickly by the dizzying relief when he had learned she was alive. With a sharp inhale, he realized suddenly how strong those emotions had hit him. Never had he felt a connection so profoundly or so quickly for another person. Mine, his mind whispered.

The compound loomed ahead soon enough, pulling Dimitri from his thoughts. Reconnaissance of the area, along with intel from the locals had indicated that there were approximately thirty or so soldiers, along with Dashkov, currently encamped at their base. There was a thick, cement wall that ran around the area, encasing a principal building or other smaller units. At all four corners stood concrete towers, each consisting of at least two guards. Each was carrying an automatic rifle, their eyes on a continuous sweep of the surrounding arid countryside.

He could see Tasha speaking quietly into her satellite phone, undoubtedly letting Abe know they were in position. She nodded quickly to Dimitri before moving away, headed for the outermost towers. The towers were about fifty feet apart along the back, and nearly double that from front to back. Dimitri would move to target the front two towers, positioned near the gate, while Tasha would remove the threat from the back two at the same time.

Dimitri skirted around boulders and jagged rock formations as he made his way to a set of rocks a few meters from the front gate. He watched as Abe stepped out of the truck, pulling a struggling Natalie from the cab. The gate was open slightly, enough for a man to move through to face them. He was holding a rifle at the pair, while Abe had a gun trained on Natalie. Dimitri peered through the scope on his own rifle, watching the interaction, his index finger resting against the trigger. He observed as the man spoke into a two-way radio and presumed he was relaying Abe's demands to Viktor. After a moment, Dimitri saw the man motion for Abe to follow. Walking behind the man, Abe dragged Natalie beside him and through the metal doors. As they closed behind the group with a loud clang, the reverberation and sound echoed through Dimitri's soul, as if signaling a death knell. 

* * *

Abe followed the solider through the gate, as he pulled Natalie alongside. He had known that he couldn't just walk in, with only a gun as protection. Abe knew he would be shot before he could make it past the gate. So, he had improvised. His insurance policy was now wearing a vest, circled with several bricks of C4. He had made sure that the man at the gate had let Dashkov know his daughter was a walking bomb and that the vest would detonate if anything happened to Abe.

Even with the tape over her mouth, Natalie continued to struggle and yell. The fury in her eyes only made Abe more amused. She was feisty, he'd give her that. If she weren't in league with her father, he might have almost considered offering her a position within his organization. Unfortunately, she had sealed her fate by siding with and helping, the man who had abducted his family. In Abe's eyes, there was no forgiveness – no mercy – for that. She would pay, as would her father.

Entering the main house, they were led down a corridor, into a large room. Directly across, Abe saw Lissa Dragomir seated in a large, high back chair, her hands tied to each arm. She looked at him with wariness, her wide, blue eyes taking in both he and Natalie. He felt himself soften, as he looked at his daughter's friend. "It's alright, child. I'm going to get you out of here," Abe said calmly. Turning to look directly at Dashkov, his eyes steeled as his voice went cold. "Isn't that right, Viktor?"

Abe's grip tightened on Natalie's arm, as he saw the slight smirk, but otherwise cold, dead eyes of the other man. He gave a small shrug. "It looks as if have me at a disadvantage, Ibrahim." In a flash, Viktor's hand was suddenly around Lissa's pale, slender neck. Abe saw her eyes widen in terror as Dashkov bit out, "But, looks can always be deceiving." Nodding towards Natalie, he growled, "Release my daughter. Now!"

Abe took in the scene before him, studying his adversary's face for any sign of weakness or fear. Seeing none, he pulled Natalie closer, raising the gun to rest the barrel against her temple. From the corner of his eye, he saw her eyes widen in fear, the spunk and bravado rapidly evaporating.

"It would seem we're actually at a stalemate, wouldn't you say? You have something I want, and I have something of value to you, wouldn't you agree?" Seeing Viktor's slight nod, he continued, "So, I propose a trade. You can have your daughter, and in turn, you will give me Ms. Dragomir, unharmed."

He watched as Viktor seemed to study him, weighing his words. Abe remained calm, cold as ice as he waited for the other man to make his decision. While he wasn't sure what Viktor would decide, he had to believe that like him, the man would do anything to protect his only child. It was a gamble, but he didn't feel it would force him to leave the table empty-handed.

Abe watched as Viktor used his free hand to loosen the binding around Lissa's wrists. Keeping his other hand secured around her throat, he lifted her up abruptly and pulled her into his chest, using her body as a shield. Pushing her close toward Abe and Natalie, he said, "Release my daughter."

Glancing at Viktor's hand, still held firmly against Lissa's throat, Abe nodded towards Lissa. "Her first," he growled.

"Ah, ah, ah," Viktor said. "Not so fast. You have enough explosives there to blow a crater in the ground. What guarantee do I have that once I release Ms. Dragomir that you won't simply detonate the bomb?"

"I'm sure you're very well aware of my reputation, Viktor. I keep my promises and honor my agreements. I vow that I will disengage the explosives once Lissa and I are clear of the compound."

He watched as Viktor seemed to mull over the statement before finally nodding. "I have heard you are an honorable criminal, Mr. Mazur. I suppose I will have to trust you to stand by your word." With that, he released his hand from Lissa's throat and pushed her gently towards Abe and Natalie.

Abe lowered his gun and released his own grip on Natalie's arm before nudging her toward her father. He watched cautiously as Lissa made her way quickly to Abe's side, uncertainty in her eyes. He was sure she was wondering whether she had just gone from the frying pan into the fire. As she drew next to him, Abe leaned in slightly and whispered, "Rose sent me, my dear. You're safe with me." He watched as her eyes widened, but gave no other indication and said nothing. Instead, she gave a short nod and let him maneuver her to stand behind him.

"Now, if you'll be so kind as to..." Viktor began to say but was interrupted by the sounds of explosions and gunfire. Grabbing Natalie, he drew her towards an opposite entrance, apparently looking to make his escape.

"Come, child," Abe said, as he turned to grab Lissa's hand. "We have a rescue to complete."

* * *

Rose and her mother moved further down the empty corridor, only stopping as a set of large wooden doors ahead flew open. Her eyes grew wide, as she watched Viktor and a young girl dash through the entry and into the corridor. In a split second, Rose had her weapon raised. "Don't take another step, Dashkov," she yelled.

Viktor and Natalie drew up short. Rose watched the woman's surprise immediately before she stepped behind Dashkov's emaciated frame. Momentarily shocked, Rose quickly assessed that this woman wasn't a prisoner, but an ally of the madman.

"Ah, Rosemarie, I see you finally found your mother. What a sweet reunion it must have been. I'm just sorry I wasn't there to witness it," he sneered.

Rose cocked her head to the side as she smirked. He really did need to learn to shut up, she thought. Pointing her rifle towards Viktor she asked, "So, is this another victim of your maniacal whims?"

"Ah, that's right. You've never met my daughter, Natalie. It would seem your loathsome father decided to abduct her and use her to bargain for Lissa's life. Successfully, I might add," he said, a cruel smile on his twisted lips. "Too bad he won't be able to reunite with his own loved ones," he said as he quickly raised his hand, revealing a large handgun.

Before either she or Janine had a chance to react, Victor fired the gun toward Janine, the shot going wide. The next few seconds seem to move in slow motion as Rose raised her weapon, pulling the trigger to end the monster's life. At the same time, as she was pulling the trigger, she watched as Viktor yanked Natalie from behind him to place her small body in front of his. She watched in horror as the bullet, meant for Viktor's heart, instead felled the young woman – a bullet between her eyes.

Suddenly time seemed to speed up as she saw Viktor releasing Natalie's limp body before sprinting down an adjoining corridor. Rose had to push back the urge to vomit, as she realized she had ended a young woman's life, and that her despicable father had used her as a shield.

She felt her mother's hand on her arm. "Rose, you couldn't have known," Janine said softly. "It's not your fault. Go, and find Lissa. I'll go after Dashkov. I have as much reason as anyone to want to see him taken down."

She barely heard her mother's words over the rage that had her vision turning red. However, she nodded at her mother. "Go. I'll find Lissa and Abe," she said as she moved toward the room ahead. "Just make sure he pays!"

* * *

After Abe made his way inside, Dimitri had readied his position, the sniper rifle perched atop a large rock. They were waiting for Mason to get into position. Once the tower guards were dispatched, Mason would set the explosive charge at the main gate, allowing them to breach quickly, as well as set up a distraction for any remaining loyalists inside.

"I'm in position," Tasha spoke through the earpiece Dimitri had activated before they had taken their places.

"Go," Dimitri whispered as he hovered the sight of the rifle over the first target and gently squeezed the trigger. The only sound was a slight whoosh, as the projectile exited the barrel. Without taking a beat, he swiveled and took out the second guard at the closest tower to his location. Adjusting the rifle once again, he searched the remaining towers on the far side, finding each devoid of life.

"Targets down," Dimitri said quietly. "Moving to the main gate."

Crouching low, he ran to meet up with Tasha and Mason at the large, heavy doors. Mason was already placing a small brick of C4 against the door before inserting the blasting cap into the clay-like material.

"Fall back," Dimitri growled.

The group moved away and found a large boulder. All three knelt down, as Mason held the small remote detonator in his hand.

"Blow it," Dimitri said.

As Mason squeezed the trigger, all three covered their heads. Even behind their strong defense, the shockwave and sound were impressive. Quickly shaking off the effects, all three leapt to their feet, running toward the now gaping hole that led to their prize.

Cries of alarm could be heard, as well as random blasts from various weapons. Through the smoke and haze, brought on by the explosion, most were firing wildly, out of fear and panic. Dimitri immediately split off the left, finding cover behind a small outbuilding near the gate. He watched as Natasha moved to the right, securing her position as well. Mason crept past Tasha and made his way further into the camp, past Dimitri's line of sight.

As the haze began to settle, Dimitri leaned out quickly several times to ascertain the layout of the compound, as well as the position of any unfriendlies. He watched as Tasha did the same.

"Mason, status," Dimitri barked.

"Two down and making my way toward the far end," Mason said quietly.

"Roger. Tasha, cover me," Dimitri replied.

He began to move before he saw her nod and slide out from her hiding spot. As Dimitri crouched and ran further ahead, he saw several bodies scattered around the open area. Whether they had been killed during the initial confusion, or from Tasha's deadly aim, he didn't care. His only focus was getting to his Roza.

Once he was situated further in, he settled his back against another building. From his position, he could make out Tasha's form as she continued to pick off random followers of Viktor's who were stupid enough to brazen their way through the compound.

He heard her sigh before she spoke. "Why do the fanatics always have to make it so damn easy. Where's the challenge?" she said testily.

Dimitri's lips twitched, even though his heart was heavy and his mind focused. "Given what we're here for, I'll take easy."

"Dimitri!"

Even before he heard the warning from Tasha in his ear, he felt the knife at his throat. At his eye roll, he almost chuckled as he recalled the same expression lighting Rose's face frequently.

"Drop your weapon," the male voice behind him hissed.

Lifting his hands slowly, Dimitri laid the rifle against the wall before raising his hand once again. As he felt the man behind him relax slightly, Dimitri reached his left hand quickly and grasped the man's wrist tightly. In the next moment, he crouched down before yanking the man over his shoulder. With a quick shove and twist, the blade was embedded in the enemy's chest.

"Show off," Tasha huffed with humor into his earpiece.

Dimitri grabbed the gun and headed back further into the compound. The yells and sporadic gunfire had decreased to only short bursts.

"Mason, status?" Dimitri ordered, his eyes scanning the area ahead.

"Northeast quadrant cleared. Moving to the Northwest side now."

"Roger. I'm headed in your direction. Tasha, move up behind and cover us."

"On it," she replied.

The three moved in perfect sync, clearing the remaining loyalists. Surveying the compound, Dimitri flicked his wrist toward the larger main building. All three moved forward, guns and heads swinging to ensure a clear path.

As they approached the large entrance, they knelt into the hard earth quickly, pointing their weapons as the doors suddenly burst open. Dimitri's jaw hardened as he watched Dashkov rushing through the opening.

"Freeze!" Dimitri yelled.

Viktor slid to halt, the gun in his hand wavering toward them. As he took in Dimitri and the others, his bravado seemed to slip, especially as he realized he was no longer protected by his loyal guard dogs. As that realization hit, Viktor slowly lowered his gun before letting it slip out of his hands.

"Put your hands on your head," Dimitri shouted. No way would he trust the snake to not be carrying another weapon.

Casually, Viktor raised his hands and placed them on the back of his head. Even knowing he was defeated, the arrogant asshole still smirked. "Ah, if it isn't the white knight. Come to extract some revenge, dear boy?"

"Where are they?" Dimitri growled, ignoring the older man.

"Where's who?" Viktor replied, failing at his attempt at confusion.

"You know, asshole. Where are Rose, Lissa, and Janine Hathaway?"

Viktor shook his head slowly. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I haven't seen sweet Lissa since the party, and I was under the assumption Ms. Hathaway, and her daughter were both dead."

Dimitri stood and took a menacing step toward the terrorist. "Where. Are. They?"

"Dimitri," Tasha bit out in warning.

"I really was sorry to hear about Rose's accident. Such a shame. I hear there's nothing worse than death by fire. I truly hope the young woman didn't suffer…too much."

Dimitri felt his heart clutch, remembering the horrific explosion and the heart-wrenching grief he had felt when he had watched the car explode. Could Abe and Tasha have been mistaken? Could Rose really have died? The thin thread of hope he had been clinging too was trying to unravel. Cold logic told him the man would say anything – manipulate anyone to get what he wanted. His heart felt as if it was being crushed in a vice as he contemplated the possibility.

As if aware of Dimitri's tortured thoughts, Tasha barked, "You're lying. We know Rose is here. We know you abducted Lissa Dragomir, and we know you had something to do with Janine Hathaway's disappearance. As I see it, you have two choices. You could confirm that all three women are unharmed and surrender," she said before pausing. Then, nodding toward Dimitri, she continued, "Or, I could let Dimitri take out his anger on you. I wouldn't recommend the former. If Rose really is dead, he'll have nothing left to lose. A man who loses his soulmate is a dangerous man, indeed."

Soulmate? Dimitri felt his heart clench at Tasha's words. Thoughts of his brief time with Roza flashed through his mind. Although he hadn't known her long, he felt as if he had known her forever. Even when he had been tracking her down, as her alias, Le Chat, Dimitri had been fascinated by her. Now that he had gotten to know her, be with her, work alongside her, he saw how she was strong, brave and loving. She held honor and duty sacred, as did he. Yes, she was beautiful, and he knew the physical attraction he felt surpassed any other he had ever experienced. However, he also knew he would gladly lay down his life for her. He knew too if she were indeed gone, he would vindicate her death, regardless of the consequences to himself.

Dimitri watched as Viktor seemed to contemplate his options. His beady eyes flickered back and forth between Tasha and Dimitri. Suddenly, he reached around, clasping at his chest with one hand, a grimace on his face. He cried out as he stumbled to the ground. "Help," he mumbled.

Dimitri took a couple of steps, ignoring Tasha's heed to stop. No way was Dimitri allowing the rat bastard to die before he told him where to find the others. As he drew closer, time suddenly seemed to slow down. In what felt like minutes, Dimitri saw Dashkov grasp the gun off the ground before he stood up, swinging it in his direction. Before he or the others had time to react, Viktor's body lurched forward, a red bloom appearing in his chest. Dimitri watched as the man's eyes momentarily widened in shock before the gun he held in his hand clattered to the ground. He sunk to his knees before falling face down into the sand and dirt. Looking around, Dimitri saw that Tasha and Mason were just as confused.

"Oh my God," Tasha whispered.

Dimitri whipped back around, his eyes widening. There, standing behind Viktor's now lifeless body was Janine Hathaway – arm outstretched, a gun held tight in her hand. 

* * *

Rose rushed down another hallway, desperate to find Lissa. Panic had taken hold when she hadn't been with Viktor. Rose prayed her friend was okay. She had no doubt the crazed man would hurt the young woman and her unborn child if it suited his purposes.

Hearing footsteps coming toward her from a nearby corridor, Rose froze, her gun raised in front, prepared to unleash holy hell on any more Viktor's henchmen. It wasn't until the footsteps rounded the corner, and Rose heard the shrill woman's cry that she felt the leaded weight on her shoulders slip away.

"Rose!" Lissa cried, rushing into her arms.

Wrapping her own arms around Lissa tightly, Rose stared, wide-eyed at her father. Abe stood just behind the pair, a broad smile beaming back at them. She quietly mouthed a thank you to him before closing her eyes and clutching Lissa tighter.

"Hey," her friend murmured against her ear. "Baby on board. Watch the fetus."

Rose chuckled lightly before giving her friend a brief squeeze and releasing her. Stepping back, she stepped around her friend and bestowed a quick, nervous peck onto her father's cheek. She felt the smile against her lips as he returned the gesture, along with a gentle squeeze to her arm.

"What took you so long, old man?" Rose asked, stepping back to drink in the sight of her friends…her family.

Abe chuckled. "Invading a foreign country take a little bit of planning, kiz."

Rose smirked. She knew she'd always be able to count on Abe to lighten up an otherwise emotional moment.

"Of that, I have no doubt." Pausing, she looked around before looking at Abe once again. "Who did you bring with you? I assume Tasha and Mason are involved?"

"Of course. I couldn't have kept them out if it, even if I had wanted to. I think your lovely boss had visions of a deep, dark CIA hole for me if I had left her out of everything," he said, winking. "Oh, and of course your persistent Interpol shadow tagged along."

Rose's heart sped up at the mention of Interpol, realizing immediately he meant Dimitri. A thousand emotions flooded her, from elation to fear. Elated because he had to have cared enough about her to not only work with Abe but to risk his job…his career. Fear wared within as well, terrified at the thought of him being hurt, or worse.

"Where are they?" she asked, suddenly anxious to see them with her own eyes.

"I left them outside the compound when I came in to negotiate Lissa's release," he replied. "All that lovely gunfire and explosions means they've breached the compound by now."

Realizing she had momentarily forgotten about Lissa's presence, her mind focused on the tall, handsome man just outside the doors, Rose reached out to grasp her friend's hands.

"Lissa, are you certain you're okay…the baby?"

Lissa smiled warmly. "We're fine, Rose. Although, I think you have some explaining to do," she said, glancing over her shoulder at Abe.

Rose felt heat rush to her cheeks, as she realized Lissa was unaware of she and Abe's relationship. She pulled her friend to her side, keeping on arm wrapped around her waist.

"Lissa, this is Ibrahim Mazur…my father."

Lissa, gracious as ever, reached out and grasped Abe's hand in a gentle shake. Rose saw her friend's head tilt slightly, the way it did when she was considering some deep thought. Lissa turned to look back at Rose before glancing over at Abe once again. "Yes, I can certainly see some resemblance. I assume she gets her fire and bravado from you."

Abe smiled at them both, but Rose saw a hint of sadness there as well. "Ah, no, I like to think she inherited those traits from her mother. And, please call me Abe."

Rose's eyes widened, realizing she had forgotten entirely about Janine in all the excitement. Stepping close to Abe, she clutched at his arm. "Old man, you were right. Janine is alive!"

Shock and then relief flooded his eyes as he reached out to pull Rose into his chest. "I knew it," he whispered. Pulling back quickly, he beamed. "That woman is too stubborn to die before me. She always said she planned to live long enough to dance on my grave," he said, chuckling.

Rose saw Lissa's eyes widen in horror before she turned Rose to face her. "Rose, I don't understand! How is your mother alive?"

"I'll explain everything to you, once we're out of this hell hole. The short of it is, Viktor faked her death and has kept her prisoner."

Lissa gasped, her small, pale fingers fluttering in front of her mouth. Her eyes grew glassy with unshed tears before she reached out to pull Rose back into an embrace. Releasing one another a moment later, Rose wiped a stray tear from her friend's cheek before turning back to Abe.

"So, ready to blow this pop stand?" she asked.

"Lead the way, Kiz," Abe said, pointing down the corridor. "We'll keep Ms. Dragomir here between us. I haven't heard any gunfire in the last few moments. That could be a good sign."

Rose nodded before turning and heading in the direction her father had indicated. She tried to control her racing thoughts, but the one that kept rising to the top over and over made her stomach feel like lead – or it could be a bad sign.

* * *

As Tasha rushed up the steps toward Janine, Dimitri stepped up to the man lying at his feet, crimson blood spreading in a pool underneath his prone body. Reaching down, he pushed his fingers into the man's neck, searching for a pulse. Finding none, he retrieved the gun that had dropped from Viktor's hand and slipped it into the waistband of his pants.

Following up behind Tasha, Dimitri stepped around to find the two women hugging, tears trying to escape both their eyes. They stepped apart as Dimitri approached. While he had seen photos of Agent Hathaway, he couldn't say he would have recognized her. She was gaunt, her hair a duller shade of red, interspersed with gray. Dark circles lay underneath her eyes, and while he could see a fire in them, he could also sense a weariness. What the poor woman had endured all these years, he couldn't fathom.

"Agent Hathaway, I'm Dimitri Belikov. I work with Interpol."

Janine placed her hand into his, and even in her weakened state, her grip was firm and sure. "Pleasure. I appreciate the rescue. Although, as a concerned mother, I have to ask what the hell any of you were thinking of dragging Rosemarie into this!" Pointing with derision toward Viktor's body, she said, "That bastard could have killed her!"

Dimitri could have sworn his heart stopped beating at her words. In the next moment, he felt the air leave his lungs as adrenaline spiked through his body. Roza was alive! Forgetting the conditions in which Janine had been endured, Dimitri grasped both of her biceps, loosening his grip when he saw her slight wince.

"You saw Roza? Where? Is she here? Is she…alive?" he asked, not even trying to hide the desperation in voice.

He saw Janine's eyes narrow as she searched his face. After a couple of seconds, they widened slightly. A slight smile turned up her lips as she reached up and squeezed one of his hands still gripping her. "Yes, she's here and very much alive."

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, letting the relief wash over him. His Roza lived…HIS! He was mildly surprised when the realization that he wanted her, not in just his bed, but in every way didn't elicit the usual fears and trepidation. Instead, he felt nothing but certainty and a rightness he hadn't felt in…well forever.

Opening his eyes, he asked, "Where is she?" He didn't bother to hide the desperation in his voice.

As Janine began to open her mouth to reply, Dimitri heard a voice…her voice.

"Mom!" Rose cried out as she dragged along Lissa, her arm wrapped around the other woman's waist. Dimitri felt a combination of both relief and embarrassment, as he took in both women. He hadn't even considered Lissa or whether she was safe. He grimaced as he thought about his best friend and how Christian would kick his ass if he knew.

Dimitri watched as Janine and Rose hugged. The older woman reached around and pulled Lissa into her arms as well. They stood there a moment, merely relishing in their reunion. Dimitri slid his eyes over to Tasha, surprised to see a look of longing and what suspiciously appeared to be unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

The women pulled back a little, feasting on each other's faces after years of separation. Janine tenderly took Lissa's face in her hands. "Look at you, dear. You've grown into such a beautiful woman. I can see so much of Rhea in you."

Lissa swiped at tears that cascaded down her face with the back of her hand, but her smile brightened their gloomy surroundings. With a slight hiccup, Lissa replied, "I can't believe you're here! When Rose said you were and that you were alive, I almost didn't want to believe her. I didn't think I could take it if it weren't true." As she began to cry again, both women surrounded her, giving her their strength and love. After a few moments, he could hear Lissa mumble into the older woman's neck, "Damn pregnancy hormones."

Janine pulled back before placing a hand gently to Lissa's stomach. "Pregnant?" she whispered.

Lissa smiled warmly and nodded, which earned another round of hugs between the women. It was only a deep cough that interrupted their reunion, as Dimitri watched Abe move closer to the group.

"Janine," he said, his deep voice obviously laden with a multitude of deep emotions.

Janine broke free of Rose and Lissa as she stepped up to Abe. Everyone seemed to be holding their collective breath as they took in the two former lovers. Dimitri's eyes widened as he watched Janine's open palm strike against the mobster's cheek. Tensed, he readied to move to intercede, should Abe make a move toward the woman. Instead, he watched as Abe simply maintained his position, his expression stoic.

"How dare you put our daughter in danger!" she demanded.

"Mom," Rose cried out, starting toward the pair, only coming to a rapid halt as Abe raised his hand slightly to signal her to stay put.

"Janine, you have to know I would never risk her life…or yours." His shaking hands rose slowly as if to signal he meant no harm before he gently cupped her face. "Besides, our Rosemarie is too much like you, my love. The only way I could have kept her from coming for you would have been to gag and bind her. You know for a fact that wouldn't have gone well."

The pair stood silently, Abe's eyes flickering over Janine's face. If Dimitri hadn't been witness to this moment, he never would have believed that Abe Mazur was capable of what he saw burning deep within the man's eyes. They burned deep with love for the mother of his child.

Dimitri saw Janine's shoulders relax visibly before her own hand reached up and gently stroked the man's cheek, caressing the redden skin left by the impact. "Yes, I think you're right. I forget how much she takes after me…after both of us." Dimitri heard her dark chuckle, as she said, "Poor child."

Abe smiled warmly before slowly pulling Janine into his arms. His head turned into her neck as he whispered words that only the couple were privy to. Dimitri found himself averting his eyes and finding Rose looking at her parents with adoration and…envy? His heart leapt at what he hoped her look meant. It sped up to nearly heart attack proportions when her gaze slid to his. Her eyes widened slightly, as he saw her beautiful brown eyes darken even further.

Like two magnets, they moved in sync toward one another, their hungry gazes never straying until they were standing toe to toe. Unable to help himself, Dimitri closed the small distance and pulled her small frame into his chest, his arms encircling her. He felt her own arms wrap around him before squeezing herself against him. He lowered his head, letting his cheek rest on the top of her head. "Thank God, Roza," he whispered. He could feel himself shaking slightly, the realization that she was here and alive in his arms slamming home.

As if sensing the overwhelming emotions bombarding him, Dimitri felt her squeeze him even tighter before tilting her head up to look into his eyes.

"Take me home, Dimitri."


	21. Chapter 21: New Beginnings

**Well, my lovelies, the time has come. I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed taking this journey with all of you. My first love is "Sunsets & Roses." It was my first written piece and bought me a lot of joy. When I decided to write another story, I decided to stretch myself and try my hand at something different. To say this was a challenge would be an understatement (as evidenced by my lag in posting at times). However, this one too means so much to me as well. I loved writing about intrigue and adventure. I'm happy so many of you enjoyed it as well.**

 **Some of the reviewers have asked or requested that I start a new story here once I was done with ToH. I regret I'm going to no longer be writing fan fiction. While I adore these characters and the VA books, I feel an overwhelming desire to write stories featuring characters that are new; characters with no constraints. In fact, I've already started to rework S &R into an independent novel, and have ideas for several other stories as well. Should I find someplace to publish any of these in the future, I'd be happy to share that with anyone who is interested.**

 **A huge thank you to Swimming, Llaria, and Lea. You all not only were a great help in my entry into this arena but also became my friends. I love all of your work and look forward to catching up on all the wonderful stories you've created and will continue to put forth. To everyone who has reviewed and messaged with reviews and critiques, I can't thank you enough. Everyone one of them meant so much to me. If you were a guest or weren't allowing responses to your reviews, please accept my deepest gratitude for the time you took to read and let me know your thoughts.**

 **Now, without further ado, I give you the final chapter of "Thief of Hearts."**

 **DISCLAIMER: The story is mine, the VA characters belong to Richelle Mead.**

* * *

 **Chapter 20: New Beginnings**

Rose stood in the spacious yard, watching her best friend. Rose hadn't imagined she could look any more beautiful. Lissa's skin glowed, and her eyes were bright as she smiled sweetly down at the small bundle in her arms. She was seated in one of the deck chairs, singing softly to the tiny baby girl. Rhea Marie Ozera was only a few weeks old, but already commanded everyone within her orbit. Christian slid up to stand beside his wife and daughter, his matching smile nearly blinding.

Rose felt the ache in her heart as she took in the scene. From the time her mother had "died," Rose had only had one goal in life…revenge. Yes, she'd used the term "justice" to appease her boss and friends, but Rose knew the truth. She had wanted those responsible to pay, and with as much malice as she could muster. Which, considering how the anger had burned within her…fueled her, she knew she would eventually see herself either on the wrong side of the law or possibly six feet under. She had taken chances. Too many she sometimes thought.

Six months. Sometimes Rose couldn't believe it had been that long since her life had been irrevocably altered. Her mother lived! Viktor Dashkov was dead and his rancid empire demolished. Abe had used his contacts to whisk them out of the unfriendly territory, drawing no scrutiny. Rose winced inwardly as she recalled the various closed-door meetings everyone had been forced to endure upon their return. Tasha had taken the brunt of the blowback. It wasn't every day a highly decorated and revered CIA agent came back from the dead…or that said agency invaded a hostile country. Hands had been slapped, but surprisingly that had been all.

Unfortunately, Janine's rise from the dead had been a bit harder for the government to spin. In the end, they had merely outed her as a deep undercover operative. This had meant the end of Janine's career, but Rose knew her mother felt no real loss from that decision. As if her thoughts carried across the ocean, Rose's phone beeped, indicating an incoming text message. She smiled as she saw it was from Abe. Her father. She hadn't quite gotten used to calling him that yet, but they were working toward building a closer relationship. She always got a snicker when she saw his name displayed, courtesy of her mother.

 _ **Momsbitch:** Kiz, your mother wants to know when you'll be heading to Turkey for a visit. She says it's been too long since she's seen you._

Rose responded quickly, letting Abe know that she would be talking to Tasha soon about finding some time off. Since the rescue, Rose had been mostly on desk duty during all the internal investigations and queries into what had occurred with Dashkov. Luckily, given that Tasha and her team, along with Dimitri and Abe, had successfully ended one of the most significant terrorist networks in the world, Rose had evaded the agency's wrath relatively unscathed.

When Abe responded, even employing a kissing emoji, Rose chuckled out loud. She had put a stop to his incessant use of hashtags, trying to explain the proper usage, but failing miserably. Rose had seen the softer side of Abe emerge even more after Janine had agreed to travel to Turkey a few months ago. She had been adamant that there would be no renewing of feelings between herself and Abe. So vehement where her protestations that Rose knew the eventual outcome. Not even one month after her mother had arrived in Turkey, Janine had called Rose to inform her that she and Abe would be getting remarried. It had been a quiet, civil ceremony with only Rose as a witness. While Abe had gone _mostly_ legitimate, for her mother's and her sake, he still had enemies that would take great pleasure in hurting him through those he cared about.

Rose's phone rang, and she put a finger in the air toward her friends before she stepped away. "Rose, tell Mason he's a dick!" Mia's ordinarily sweet tone bit with ire.

Rose sighed but smiled. Tasha had, in fact, recruited Mia for the CIA, and now the young woman was dating her friend and partner, Mason. At first, they had been like oil and water…well, more like c4 and a blasting cap. Their angry foreplay around the office and in social settings had driven Rose mad. She and Tasha had finally decided enough had been enough and sent the two of them on a mission together…to a remote part of Kazakhstan. Mysteriously, none of their communications devices had worked, and they had nothing to do until their "rescue" except either kill each other or finally admit to their feelings.

Sure, the irony wasn't lost on Rose. How she had become the group's Cupid, she had no idea, given her own love life was just barely on life support. Once they had all returned home, the momentum of what had occurred and what they all had to face took over like a tidal wave. After Dimitri's interrogation/interview with the CIA, his boss had ordered him back to France. They hadn't been able to even say goodbye. They had spoken on the phone a couple times, but their conversations usually never strayed beyond work and the resulting fallout.

So many times, during the all too brief conversations, Rose had yearned to hear Dimitri ask her to come to him in France. Or, even tell her he was coming back to Washington. Yes, it wasn't the middle ages, she realized. As a fierce, independent woman, she could have asked him to come or offered to go to him. Yet, she held back. She had found herself, alone in her apartment, frequently wanting to pull her hair out at her own insecurities. Never had she felt so out of sorts. Rose was always calm, able to reason things out with cold logic. Of course, that had been before she had met Dimitri…before she had fallen in love.

That little revelation had induced consumption of an entire bottle, or two, of wine. Poor Lissa, already into her third trimester, had merely listened and let Rose try work through the fears, doubts, and emotions.

"Rose?"

The woman's voice in her ear drew her back to the present. "Well, Mia, that's a foregone conclusion. What did he do now?"

"Tasha wants to send me out with another team, but Mason is throwing a tantrum. He thinks I'm not ready. It's like he doesn't trust or believe in me."

Rose could hear the hurt in her friend's voice. "Put the dumbass on the phone," she said.

Rustling noises and murmured words were all she could hear for a few seconds. "She's not ready," Mason growled.

In that tone and one statement, he had said everything. Her friend was worried. This man, who never showed fear in the field and could crack a joke in the blink of an eye, was scared. No, terrified. It had only been a few days ago, while they were going over reports in his office, that Mason had confided in Rose. He had fallen in love with the brilliant, blonde pixie.

Breathing out, Rose replied softly, "Mase."

Silence filled the line. She could hear his exhalations as he tried to control his own breath. "I won't be with her. I won't be able to p-protect her," he stuttered.

Rose closed her eyes, her heart thudding as she heard the pain in his voice. One of the things she loved and cherished about Mason was his capacity to love. To care deeply. Even though they bantered back and forth like siblings, Rose never doubted he cared for her. The proof was in the pudding, so to say. He had her back, just as she had his.

"Mase, you know you can't always be there. You're going to have to trust…in her and in our fellow agents. She is ready. She's the best, Mason. Have faith in her."

"I do trust her, and I know she's the best," he replied. "I…I just can't stand the thought of losing her."

Rose could hear Mia's faint voice in the background. "Oh, Mason. You won't lose me. I'll always come home to you." Her voice became louder, as she was obviously standing closer. "I love you, Mason."

Rose heard the sharp breath of her friend. "I love you too, Mia. So much."

As a clattering noise could be heard, Rose called out, "Mason?" Met with silence, she pulled the phone away, making sure the call hadn't disconnected. "Mia?" she yelled. As the sounds of moans and whispers suddenly became apparent, Rose smirked before ending the call. _Well, at least someone's love life wasn't in the toilet_.

"Rose," Lissa called out from across the yard.

Slipping her phone into her back pocket, she made her way back toward her friends. As she approached, Christian handed Rose a fresh bottle of beer. "It's as if you read my mind, G-Man."

Smirking, Christian popped the top on his own bottle before taking a swig. Relief once again coursed through Rose. Once everyone had returned stateside, Rose had taken the brunt of Christian's anger. Well, both she and Dimitri. His cousin, Tasha, hadn't fared any better, to be honest. He had railed at them all for keeping him out of the mission. They had all understood how he felt and had allowed him the time to vent his anger and frustration. However, beneath it all, Rose had felt the man's fear. It had taken a while for them to rebuild their relationship, no doubt in part to Lissa's machinations.

"Well, it's not as if you have a lot of real estate up there," he retorted, knocking lightly on her head.

Batting his hand way, Rose smirked. "It's not the size of the organ, it's what you do with it." Blatantly glancing at Christian's crotch, she continued, "Besides, at least mine is bigger than yours."

Rose had to duck quickly as foaming alcohol flew from Christian's mouth before he let loose a choking laugh. Once he had gained some composure, he grinned. "Major points there, spook."

Grinning, Rose turned and lowered herself into the chair opposite Lissa. Before she could even settle into the seat, Lissa was rising and leaning toward her, arms outstretched. "Rose, would you hold Rhea for me? I need to go check on the lasagna."

Before she could reply, Rose's arms were filled with squirming, sweet smelling baby. She stared into the tiny face, as big emerald eyes focused intently on her own, the little mouth working the small pacifier between her rosebud lips. It took seconds for the tension in Rose's body to abate, as she let the fear go and embraced the wonder that was this child. After everything Lissa had endured, she had been safe and healthy. The proof of her strength and resilience lay in Rose's arms.

"I never thought I'd say it, but you holding a baby looks right," Christian's soft voice said over her shoulder.

Without looking up, Rose continued to stare into the little girl's eyes, whose gaze flickered between her face and her father's. "It's only because she's perfect…and I can give her back to you guys at any time," she jested.

Rose felt his hand on her shoulder, resting gently before he squeezed. "You love him."

Christian's quiet words held no question. Of course, Lissa had confided in her husband about Rose's feelings. She would never begrudge her friend for sharing things with him. Still, Rose wasn't quite sure she wanted to have that particular conversation with anyone else. While Rose felt and did so profoundly, she wasn't one to share those emotions readily. Undoubtedly her work in covert operations had a lot to do with it, but underneath, Rose knew it was more of a defense mechanism. The less someone knew about how you felt, the harder it was to use against you.

"What I feel doesn't matter. He's there, and I'm here. It could never be anything more."

Christian moved around her, sliding into Lissa's vacant chair before pulling it closer to her. Their knees were nearly touching. He stared at his daughter for a moment, before raising his eyes to hers. "What if that weren't an obstacle? What if he were here, permanently? Or, what if you were there? Would that change things?"

All the pent-up feelings of love, loss and desire flooding through her as she thought about his questions. Would she be able to take a chance, if things were different? Would she be able to put her heart on the line and run the risk of getting hurt? Their jobs weren't safe…their lives endangered with every mission. If she gave Dimitri her heart, would it survive losing him? Would whatever time they could enjoy together be worth the pain if, God forbid, he was taken from her?

Quietly, almost a whisper, she replied, "I don't think I'd survive it if I lost him, Christian."

His hand reached out, gently squeezing her knee. "Rose, I get it. First Abe and then your mother. You've been strong for so long, given the loss you've endured. But, you have your parents back now, alive and happy." He paused before pulling his hand away. "I almost lost the love of my life. The agony of not knowing where she was, or if she and my daughter were alive, nearly destroyed me."

Rose blushed, the heat of shame coursing through her. To know she had been party to his anguish would haunt her for years to come. He was a good man who loved his family with all his heart. "Christian, I'm s-."

He held up his hand. "No, no more apologies. I'm not saying this to make you feel bad, Rose. What I'm saying is that even if I had," he said, his voice choking with emotion, "lost them both, I wouldn't trade any of the time before. As corny as it sounds, the old adage is true. It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."

Rose snorted. Okay, so sarcasm and inappropriate humor were her go to when facing deeper emotions. She softened her expression when she saw the frustration on Christian's face. "I'm sorry. I-I'm just not sure I know how to do this?"

"Do what?"

Rose blushed, embarrassed suddenly. "You know…be in a real relationship."

Christian leaned back in the chair, taking a pull from the longneck. Swallowing, he set it back down before staring into her eyes. "Rose, if you ever repeat anything I'm about to say, I will make the torture you guys employ look like child's play." He softened his dark words with a smarmy grin. "You, Rosemarie Hathaway, are a catch. You're beautiful, smart and can kick just about everyone's ass. You love those you care about deeply, and you protect what is yours." He said the last part as he gazed longingly toward the patio doors leading into the house. Turning back, he continued, "I'll never be able to repay you for bringing her…them, home to me."

Rose struggled to hold back the tears that burned behind her eyes. While they usually kept their interactions to witty banter and sarcastic repartee, deep down he was like a brother to her. His words chiseled away at the stone edifice she had erected around her heart through the years.

Unable to speak, for fear of her voice cracking, Rose gave a quick jerk of her head in acknowledgment. She knew Christian wouldn't appreciate an outpouring of emotion or affection.

"Dinner's ready!" Lissa said as she breezed through the patio door before setting the steaming dish of lasagna on the table.

Christian stood and reached to gather Rhea into his arms. With his head bent, he whispered softly into Rose's ear, "Don't let fear win."

The rest of the evening passed in companionable and easy conversation, even as Rose tried to process Christian's words and her own roiling emotions. As she had driven home, all that had been said, and all that had been left unsaid, whirled around inside her head. Sighing, as she pulled into the garage, she knew she would be getting little rest.

* * *

After hours of tossing and turning, Rose stumbled about her condo, getting ready for work. Tasha had left her a voicemail message sometime during the evening that she had a new assignment for her. The acidic pit in her stomach had only increased, the closer to the office she had gotten. Between the investigation and the resulting desk duty, Rose had been itching to get back into the field. Tasha had even sent Rose to The Farm for six weeks to hone and refresh her skills. Now she was about to learn where and what she would be doing next, but instead of feeling excited, the only thing she felt was dread.

Parking her car, she walked through the front of the building, swiping her badge through the security gates and striding through the metal detector. Taking the elevator, she stepped out once the doors opened again, dragging her leaded feet toward Tasha's office. As she reached a fist out to rap on the door, she gave herself a mental slap. _Get it together, girl_.

With that single knock, she pushed open the door before hearing Tasha's voice. The woman in question sat behind her large desk, her entire demeanor exuding competency and power. In all their time working together, Rose realized she had never seen Tasha lose her shit. Nothing seemed to faze the woman. Rose could almost believe ice water ran through her veins, instead of blood.

"Rose," the woman said, smiling as she stood from her chair. Stepping around, she stopped in front of her. In her four-inch heels, she towered over Rose. She was used to the power play, having seen Tasha use the gift of her height to intimated lesser agents. When her boss sat on the end of her desk, bringing them to eye level, Rose felt that pit in stomach deepen. She figured it could only mean one thing. Whatever mission she had tasked for Rose would be long and arduous.

"A.D. Ozera," Rose nodded in response, maintaining a formality in her tone.

A dark, arched eyebrow rose. "So, we're going with formal today, are we?" Tasha asked a slight smirk on her blood red lips.

Rose cocked her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. "I just figured it would be better to get down to business. You've got a job for me. I'm ready to do what's needed. The sooner I can get the parameters, the sooner I can be on the way."

"So eager to get back in the field, are you?"

Shrugging, Rose replied, "What I want is irrelevant. I'm an agent. I have a job to do, and a duty to perform it to the best of my ability. I've been sitting on my ass for most of these last six months. Anything is better than sitting behind a desk."

"Yes, I heard from one of the instructors at The Farm that you were quite…enthusiastic during training. He might have mentioned a trainee having to be carried off the field during hand-to-hand combat?"

Rose snorted. "Please. It was a flesh wound. The idiot should have been paying more attention and zigged instead of zagging." She waved her hand in the air. "Anyway, can we just cut to the chase and give me the information for my next operation?"

A shadow crossed Tasha's face briefly before her usual stoic façade dropped into place. "Fine. But before I do, I have a question, and I'd appreciate the truth." Raising a hand to stop whatever Rose had been about to say, Tasha continued, "And, without any sarcasm please."

Rose pursed her lips before sighing and lowering herself into the seat behind her. "Fine."

Tasha placed her hands on either side of her hips on the desk and leaned closer. "Do you love Dimitri?" Her voice was soft but firm.

Rose couldn't hide her surprise at the question, her eyes widening. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, uncertain what to say. This had _not_ been even close to what she had thought Tasha might ask. Sure, she and Dimitri were old friends, but never once, during Rose's involvement with the man had Tasha broached the subject of their relationship, such as it was.

As Tasha sat waiting, patiently apparently, Rose considered both the question and the best response to give to such a personal matter. Tasha had asked for the truth, without any of Rose's renowned sarcasm. _Right, that's like asking a fish not to swim_.

"Before I answer your rather personal question, I have one of my own," Rose replied, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

Tasha folded her arms across her chest before crossing her feet. The posture was meant either to capitulate or deflect. Rose couldn't be sure if Tasha would allow the question, so she waited until the woman nodded in acquiescence.

"Why do you want to know?

"Because, Rose, whether you believe it or not, I care about you. Not just as one of my best agents, but also as…a friend, I suppose." At Rose's apparent surprise at her words, Tasha offered up a qualifier. "Well, not friends to be honest, but I do care. I've watched you grow into an exceptional operative. Your skills are beyond compare, and your instincts can't be taught. Your clarity when you're focused on a mission is what has seen you not only succeed but also saved a lot of lives. You've lived and breathed this job for so long. However, I'm not certain you know how to simply be a woman….be Rose."

Rose felt the pressure building behind her eyes, the beginning of a headache bearing down. She rubbed her temples, closing her eyes. She thought about what Tasha had said. Rose wasn't precisely arrogant, but she knew her worth and value within The Company. Hers was not a job that allowed for lack of confidence. Her boss wasn't wrong either, in the fact that Rose had lost something along the way. In all the years she had been undercover, she had slowly taken on more of her cover's personality and erased bits of herself. It was this sense of being adrift the last six months that had honestly been the most significant cause of angst. While she had dreaded going back into the field, she had also craved it, because there she could lose herself almost entirely.

Opening her eyes, she responded, "I appreciate the recognition. And, you're not entirely off base. I've…I've been struggling these last months. I'm not entirely sure who _I_ am outside a mission anymore. I've spent so many years focused on one thing…one goal. Now, with my family alive and well, I'm not sure I feel the same purpose I once did."

Tasha nodded. "I can understand you must be feeling adrift. I was hoping these last months out of the field would help you figure out what you wanted. To be honest, I really thought you would have gone to Dimitri sooner. I swear, for two highly intuitive and intelligent people, you both are rather clueless when it comes to your own hearts."

Her words stung, but the bite numbed slightly by the compassion and understanding that showed in the other woman's eyes. "I don't think I know how to be in a real relationship. My entire career has been one long con. Pretending to be someone else. Never letting anyone get close. No long-term commitments, outside the targets and assets." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "What if I'm not enough?"

Confusion stuttered across Tasha visage before she smiled warmly. "Oh, Rose, you are so much more than what you believe. I have seen you fight for those you love. I have watched you face incredible challenges with bravery and fortitude. You, my dear, are more than enough. You are exactly what Dimitri needs. The question is, Rose, are you willing to fight for him? Are you willing to let _him_ fight for you?"

Rose contemplated Tasha's words. They had emboldened her, reminding her of who she was at her core. Rose was a fighter. Yet, the other obstacle in her way was one she couldn't quite see past. "None of it matters anyway. I'm here, and he's in France. We're both committed to our jobs. They may not be who we are, but the work matters…to us both. I don't see any way to make things work."

Tasha stood quickly and marched around to the other side of her desk. Reaching out, she plucked a manila folder from the top. Stretching it out, she waited for Rose to take it. Rose accepted it, assuming it was the details on her next mission. _Well, I guess the heart-to-heart is over_.

As she opened the folder, Tasha spoke. "Rose, you're fired."

* * *

Dimitri pushed harder, stretching his body to the limit. His muscles burned, as did his lungs as he ran a blistering pace. Running through the Cimetière de Loyasse might seem creepy to others, but he found it a refuge. He could avoid traffic and crowds, as he wound his way around the large cemetery. The added bonus was that it was only a short distance from his flat.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that he needed to get back, get showered and dressed if he wanted to get into the office on time. Hans had scheduled a meeting for ten in the morning. Dimitri assumed it was to go over their next investigation. They also still needed to evaluate replacements for Agent Prinz.

As if on cue, Dimitri's phone rang. Slowing his pace to a brisk walk, he pulled the device from his pocket. He smiled as he saw the name on the screen. "You must be a mind reader," he answered.

"Should I be flattered, or worried?" Keren said, laughter in her voice.

"Always flattered, my friend. I just remembered that I've got to meet with Hans this morning to discuss possible agents to fill your shoes."

Keren scoffed, "As if my size six Louboutins would be easy to fill. I'm irreplaceable."

Dimitri laughed. He missed Keren and their easy friendship. He had felt guilty for not protecting her when she had been shot, and even more so when he couldn't be there during her recovery. Once he had made it back, it was to find that she had given her two week's notice, with the intent of returning to her remaining family in Tel Aviv.

"Well, I'll admit it's going to be hard." He slowed his pace even further, before speaking. "How are you doing, Keren?"

Before she had left, they had spoken about what her returning home might mean. The loss she had experienced there would be front and center. Dimitri had known she was brave and would be able to stand against the memories, and he knew she'd have people there who cared for her to help her through it.

"I'm good, Dimitri. I thought it would be harder…coming home. Instead, it's as if I've finally found my place in the world. It just feels right."

Dimitri could hear the hope in her voice, a lightness he hadn't heard, well, ever. It warmed his heart that his friend, fellow agent, and one-time lover had found peace. Except for his mother and sisters, there was only one other woman whom he felt such deep emotion toward. Shaking his head slightly at the thought, he realized that, no, what he felt for _her_ went beyond anything he felt for anyone else.

"Dimitri?" he heard her voice as he refocused on their conversation.

"Huh?" he asked, realizing he had apparently missed something.

Keren laughed lightly. "I said, have you heard from Rose?"

Dimitri's steps faltered before he came to a complete stop. Even though he thought of her several times a day – who was he kidding, more like incessantly, hearing her name spoken aloud tied his stomach in knots. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "No, it's been several months. We last spoke just after all the internal investigations had been wrapped up."

Silence filled the line before Keren spoke again. "Care to tell me why you haven't beat feet back to the States then?"

Dimitri rolled his eyes, although there was no one to see. "Why? You and I both know it would be a colossal mistake. Rose and I are both married to our careers and sense of duty. Besides, I'm not exactly prime relationship material."

"Hey!" she bit out. "Watch how you talk about my friend. I happen to know that you're one hell of a catch. Granted, I wasn't looking to snag you for myself, but don't give me this bullshit. You're obviously in love with Rose. From what I've read and heard, along with what you've told me, you two are alike in so many ways. You both fight for others, you both care deeply, and you both have great courage and ethics."

When Dimitri stayed quiet, ruminating on what she had said, Keren continued. "Look, I know that the stuff that went down with Svetlana put a serious dent into your ability to trust."

"Keren," Dimitri interrupted a low growl in his voice. She knew he hated talking about that part of his past.

"No, hear me out," she said with a firm tone. "I know you trust me. I know you trust your team. Hell, I have no doubt you trust Rose. What I'm saying is that I think you stopped trusting yourself. Trusting that you could let someone in and take a chance." She sighed. "Dimitri, there are no guarantees in this life, especially not in the lives we lead. I know that better than anyone."

Dimitri knew she wasn't only talking about getting shot. She was thinking about the loss of her family.

"The one thing I've taken away from all that I've been through these last years is that there are no guarantees. Life is meant to be lived, to its fullest. Embrace what you have when you can, because you might not get another chance. I've only had the merest glimpse of how you feel about Rose. If you feel for her as I think you do, then you would be a damn fool to let her go."

Dimitri gulped, his breaths coming fast. Adrenaline, not related to his recent run, coursed through his body. Whether it was the right time or the right words, what Keren was saying felt like a sledgehammer to every wall he had once erected. "I love her," he whispered.

As if she had been holding her breath, a loud wooshing noise came through the phone. "It's about damn time. Now, the question is, what are you going to do about it?"

Dimitri shook his head. "I don't know. Her work is important to her. She's a damn good agent. I can't expect her to just leave. On the other hand, I have commitments here…cases I've been involved in for years. Is it fair for me to just up and walk away from everything I've built here?"

"I can't answer that for you. Only you know what you're willing to sacrifice to obtain that which you desire most. Trust in yourself, Dimitri and I think you'll find the answers aren't that difficult to obtain."

"Thank you, Keren. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when you were shot."

"Hey, it's not like you weren't off saving the world or anything," she teased. In a more serious tone, she added, "Besides, I know you would have been there if you could. I've never doubted your friendship, Dimitri. No matter what else was going on, I knew without a doubt you had my back, as I had yours."

Dimitri knew she was referencing the fringe benefits portion of their relationship. Yet, he knew without a doubt that Keren had never wanted more. During their long working relationship and friendship, Keren had let it slip that she had once been in love, but it had ended badly. He hoped she too would find someone to love and to cherish the amazing woman she was.

"You still do. If you ever need anything, I'll be there."

They said their goodbyes and Dimitri slipped the phone back into his pocket. He loped gently back toward his flat, needing to grab a quick shower and dress before he headed to the office. The entire way back, his mind continued to dwell over his conversation with Keren. Could he walk away from his job and move back to the States? Would Rose be open to exploring a real relationship if he did?

An hour later, Dimitri was seated at his desk, reviewing the newest case he and his team were assigned. While most of Dashkov's organization had been eliminated, there were still pockets of criminal activity that needed to be dealt with. One was a counterfeit ring based in Europe.

A loud knock at his door had him barking, "Enter." His eyes rose to the door as it opened, a quick apology at his lips as the assistant director entered the office. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't realize it was you."

Hans waved the words away. "No worries." Glancing down at the file in front of Dimitri, he said, "Ah, I see you're getting yourself familiar with the new case. Looks like it'll be a challenge." Looking directly into Dimitri's eyes, he asked, "You think you and your team can handle it, even being down one agent?"

Dimitri stood up, bristling somewhat at the man's tone. "Sir, just because we're missing a person, you can rest assured…"

Hans held up a hand, interrupting Dimitri's rant. "Calm down, Belikov. I don't doubt you or your team's abilities. I just mean that it's going to be a lot of work and having another hand on deck would certainly make things happen sooner. Don't you agree?"

Even though he had posed it as a question, Dimitri knew the man well enough that he wasn't expecting an answer. Hans had been pushing to fill Keren's slot in the agency but had let Dimitri handle the search. Apparently, his boss' patience had worn out.

"Sir, I've been reviewing all the qualified candidates, and I've made a list of a few who I think we should bring in to interview."

Dimitri could see by the look in Croft's eyes that he sounded less than enthusiastic in leading the headhunt for the new agent. "Well, then, that's one less thing on your plate now."

Dimitri's eyebrows drew down in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Well, since you've been busy wrapping up the Dashkov assignment, I went ahead and took the liberty of hiring someone. In fact, they should be arriving shortly."

Dimitri frowned. "Sir, of course it's your right to hire whoever you wish, but I would have hoped you would have given me a chance to review their file and possibly participate in the interview." Irritation at the end run burned beneath his skin.

"Well, I have a feeling this one will meet all your criteria. I was shocked as hell when they came knocking on our door. It was almost like providence. It's not every day you acquire one of the CIA's most valued agents. In fact, they should be stopping by here any moment. I told them you'd want to see them as soon as they arrived."

Dimitri's eyes grew at Croft's words. _No, it couldn't be_. His skin felt electrified as he considered the possibility.

A small knock at his door had Dimitri's eyes flying to it, hope surging forward. Before Dimitri could say a word, although, at that moment, he wasn't sure he could form a coherent thought, Hans stepped back and opened the door. Dimitri tried to lean around from behind his desk to make out the person on the other side.

As Hans stepped aside, Dimitri's heart stuttered, his breath caught in his chest. _She was here!_

"Agent Hathaway, I assume you remember Agent Belikov?" Hans said, a knowing smirk on his lips. _Damn, that man was too astute_.

Rose stood just inside the door. She was wearing a fitted pair of charcoal pants with a matching jacket over a blood red silk blouse. Her heels put her almost eye level to Hans but still left her several inches shorter than Dimitri. While the outfit wasn't provocative, he found his blood heating. Her dark hair was down, flowing in gentle waves over her shoulders and down her back. The sleeves of the jacket were pushed up to just below her elbows.

Rose's gaze finally met his, and he had to hold back the inappropriate groan when he caught sight of the lust…and something more profound in her eyes. "Yes, of course. It's good to see you again."

Her voice nearly brought him to his knees. It had been so long since he had heard her sensual husky tone. He felt himself hardening, just from the sound alone. He had to clench his fists to keep from reaching for her. To stop from laying her across his desk and taking her over and over again until they were both exhausted.

A cough drew Dimitri's gaze back to his boss. "Yes, well, I guess I'll leave you two to get reacquainted. We'll meet up in the conference room tomorrow at zero nine hundred." With that final statement, he excused himself and closed the door behind him.

For a moment, they stared at one another, neither moving. Dimitri stood, drinking in the sight of her, afraid if he moved she'd vanish. Finally, he spoke, his voice cracking, "What the hell are you doing here, Roza?" He took a small step toward her as if trying to calm a spooked animal.

Rose matched his movement, taking a small step toward him. "Tasha fired me." She shrugged one of her petite shoulders. "Heard your team might have an opening."

 _She was really here! She was going to be working here, with him!_ He felt like a weight was lifting off his shoulders…like he could breathe again. Just as he was about to embrace the miracle standing in front of him, doubt began to cloud his thoughts. _What if she was here just because she needed a job?_

Taking another step closer, Dimitri swallowed heavily, a weary gaze in his eyes. "Is that the only reason?"

He saw a flash of fear and a sliver of her own doubt sweep across her face before it vanished just as quickly. Determination set in there instead as she moved a few more steps closer until they were nearly touching. Her head was back, looking up at him. He watched as she slowly raised her hands up, palms cupping his jaw. His eyes slid shut on their own volition as the warmth in her touch healed the remaining pieces within him.

"I'm here for the man I love."

With a groan, Dimitri opened his eyes before lowering his head to take her lips. One hand reached around to hold the back of her head, his fingers sliding through the silken strands. His cock sprang to life as he briefly imagined other places her hair could wrap around. His other hand reached down to her hip and pulled her firmly against his growing erection. This time, it was her turn to moan into the kiss, before her hands slid around his neck, her fingers twining through his own hair.

They stood there for several minutes, breaths co-mingling as their tongues tangled and their teeth nipped before soothing with a lick. It took every ounce of willpower Dimitri had to pull away and not take her right there on his desk, over the chair or on the floor.

With their foreheads touching, their breaths coming out in harsh pants, Dimitri cupped one hand to her jaw, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of her cheek. "Roza, I can't believe you're really here." He lifted his head slightly, his gaze one of concern. "Are you sure this is what you want? To be here? What about your family? What about Lissa?"

Rose pulled her hand around from Dimitri's neck and cupped his chin gently into her small palm. Her thumb brushed lightly against his lower lip. Her gaze seemed mesmerized by the movement. "I'm exactly where and with who I want to be. My family and Lissa know, and they understand." She looked into his eyes then, uncertainty hovering in her gaze. "Was I wrong?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

Pulling her to him, he rested his forehead against hers once again. Cupping both cheeks, he placed a gentle kiss to her lips, trying to invoke all he felt for her and all he wanted for them. After a few seconds, he pulled back, making sure he held her gaze.

"I love you so damn much, Roza. My little chat stole my heart. If you had the courage and strength to take this step, then I will damn well step up and make sure it's a decision you never regret. You're mine, Roza.

"And, you're mine, Comrade. Always."

 _ **Fin**_


	22. Epilogue

**So, I had signed up for the VA 10th Anniversary writing project's Holiday edition and decided to make my contribution an epilogue for Thief of Hearts. I hope everyone enjoys it. If you haven't checked out the various VA10thanniversaryproject compilations, please do so. There are some fantastic stories by several talented authors!**

 **Translation: You are under arrest! - Vy arestovany!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own the plot. Richelle Mead owns everything else.**

* * *

 **Epilogue**

The stagnant air hung heavy in the abandoned warehouse. The stench of mold and dust assaulted Rose as she knelt behind a stack of crates. Her back was resting against the hard wood as she squatted, and she could swear her legs were starting to grow numb. She and the team had been waiting in the derelict building for over an hour. Their intel had told them the men they were hunting would be meeting at that location. Months of working the dark web and CI sources had led to today's operation, and she prayed it would finally mean an end to the Dashkov nightmare. _What a way to spend Christmas Eve. Yippie ki yay, motherfucker._ She chuckled inwardly at the "Die Hard" reference. It was one of her holiday classics.

The group they hoped to apprehend was the last known cell from Viktor's former organization. They had rallied a handful of loyalists, looking to regain the Revolutionary Front's foothold and status in organized crime. This particular group had dabbled in human trafficking; a fact that made Rose eager to put them down. They were expecting a "shipment" tonight, and if the team could secure both the renegade group and the women being sold, Rose was a little hopeful that most, if not all, would opt to fight their way out. _A bullet to the brainpan was too good for these assholes._

"We've got movement on the road leading in," Alberta's voice came through softly over her earpiece.

Rose clicked her comm twice to indicate she had received the information. She heard four other similar clicks. Radio silence, for the most part, gave them the element of surprise. Rose pulled the mask down over her face, palming her Sig between her knees.

A few moments later, she could hear the rumble of a vehicle's engine as it pulled up to the massive metal doors that led into the warehouse. Based on the sound, she knew it was a large truck. That was good news since it indicated the women would be here. Had they not brought them to the location, it would have meant they would have to let at least one or two of the traffickers live to track down the women.

She heard the door creak and groan as it was opened before the truck rolled into the building. Diesel exhaust permeated the space. Taking slow, shallow breaths, Rose slowly peered around her stack of boxes to get a closer look. As the truck came to a stop, she saw a black sedan pull in and park next to it. The driver of the truck hopped out and walked to the back, speaking in Russian to the other man who had opened the door. The sedan's doors opened, and four burly men extricated themselves from it before joining the other two at the back of the truck.

The team was scattered throughout the space, with Mikhail posted outside on an adjoining roof. He and his SR-25 would eliminate any surprise visitors, as well as take out any of the targets in the warehouse, should they get past the rest of the team.

Rose watched as the men conversed, apparently negotiating over the merchandise. The thought of the women be held in the truck, and their probable fate brought a red haze to her vision. Oh, yeah, she thought, these guys were going to go down, and as painful as possible.

Luckily, the size of the warehouse was such that Eddie would be able to slip into the cab of the truck and hopefully pull it out of harm's way just as their assault began. That left her, Ivan and Dimitri to apprehend the targets.

From the shadows, she saw Eddie's black-clad form moving slowly toward the truck. Glancing back at the group of men, she saw they were all preoccupied, undoubtedly confident they were alone. Rose smirked at their stupidity. That sort of cockiness always got the bad guys in the end.

She looked back toward the truck and saw her teammate slip into the driver's seat, preparing to start it and drive to the other end of the building, where it would be tucked behind a massive wall of crates. She held her breath, awaiting the signal.

 _ ***CLICK***_

Rose slid out from behind the boxes and ran toward the group, arms outstretched, her gun an extension of her body. From the other side, she heard Dimitri's deep voice shout, "Vy arestovany!" At that same exact moment, she caught the sound of the truck's engine start and watched as Eddie punched the accelerator. As it gathered speed toward the end of the building, she caught sight of the man who had driven the truck turn and aim his weapon toward the retreating vehicle. Without stopping, Rose fired, her shot impacting the man's knee. He screamed and dropped to the ground, his gun falling from his hands as he clutched the now mutilated joint, writhing in pain.

Up ahead, the other men were scrambling to find cover as Dimitri fired at their retreating figures. Two of the men attempted to jump into the sedan in an apparent bid to escape. Unfortunately for them, Ivan was waiting at the front of the car. He stood, an imposing figure clad in black, as he aimed his FN Five-SeveN semi-automatic at them. Both stopped abruptly, raising their hands in the air.

Rose continued forward, toward Dimitri. The other two men had ducked for cover behind crates and appeared to have him pinned down. Shots volleyed back and forth, as Rose crept around, trying to come up behind one of the men. As she stepped quietly but swiftly, Rose soon saw one of the larger men crouched down, apparently trying to reload his weapon. Smiling, a grin that Dimitri said would scare the horns off the devil, Rose crept closer until she was standing directly behind the kneeling figure. Forcefully, she pushed the end of her gun against the man's skull.

"Please, please make my day right now and try something. I've been so hoping I would get to kill one, or more, of you bastards tonight. Do a gal a favor, huh?"

The man peered slowly over his shoulder, the malevolent glint in his eyes hinting at his choice. Before he could even turn entirely, Rose fired, sending him backward into the boxes. For a split second, she pondered whether she should feel any remorse. _Nah._

The sounds of shouting came from the other side of the crates, as Rose heard Dimitri's voice in her ear. "I'm out!"

As her heart thundered in her chest, she ran back around to where she had last seen him. From the direction she had run, Dimitri was standing against the wall, his K-BAR knife in hand. The other man, the only one remaining, was holding a Tokarev aimed at Dimitri's heart. He was partially shielded by crates, which made taking a shot as she ran nearly impossible. She took a second to analyze it all before she flew into action. The gun had a nine-round clip, and she hoped the man hadn't had time to reload the magazine. With all the shots that had been fired, she prayed he was low on ammunition by this point.

She had no doubt that at any moment the man would pull the trigger. As if time seemed to slow, she bolted toward Dimitri, keeping her sights on her target. In the space of what was only a few seconds, the muzzle of the Russian gun flared before the loud boom echoed throughout the building.

"Roza!" Dimitri roared, as he saw her jerk back a few feet from the bullet's impact. Without hesitating, he grabbed for the gun that had fallen from her hand, lifted it and fired. He watched as the other man halted his advance and dropped to the ground, his eyes wide in death, a round hole now placed precisely between them.

Turning back, Dimitri rushed to Rose's prone body. Her eyes were closed, and her skin was cast in a sickly pallor. His heart hammered in his chest, and every sound around him was dimmed over the rushing beat of his heart. He dropped to his knees, reaching out gently to pull Rose to his body. He ran his hands over hers, trying to locate her wound. He was dimly aware of shouts coming through his earpiece, as well as around him. He could feel the presence of others, but his focus was narrowed to her only.

He placed soft kisses to her forehead, cheeks, and eyes. Whispered oaths and promises poured from his lips. He saw the wetness on her face, not realizing at first that it had come from him…from his tears. He felt the firm pressure of a hand on his shoulder and could barely make out the words of his friend and teammate.

"Dimitri, the ambulance is on the way. Where is she hit? Does she have a pulse?" Ivan asked, his tone full of worry.

"I-I-" he stuttered in response. Fear and grief threatened to overwhelm him.

It was only the sudden, harsh intake of air and the groan that brought Dimitri slamming back to earth. Rose shifted in his arms, her coughs nearly jostling her out of them. "Holy crap, that hurt," she groaned.

Dimitri sucked in a breath, an overwhelming sense of relief and love cascading through him. _She was alive!_ He loosened his hold somewhat, getting closer so he could look into her face. Her color was slightly better, but her forehead was creased as she grimaced in pain. "Roza, where were you shot?"

Her hand fluttered to her side before she pulled up her shirt. "Lower torso. Damn thing nearly missed the vest," she groaned.

Dimitri let out a humorless chuckle. Relief coursed through him. He and Rose had fought over his insistence that she wear a bullet-proof vest. When she was a CIA undercover operative, she had played by a looser set of rules. Working with Dimitri, she had, albeit reluctantly, become more willing to follow Interpol protocols. That included wearing a vest during missions such as this.

She was leaning back on one hand, the other crossed to her side. Dimitri moved her hand slightly so he could check the area himself. Feeling around gently, he found no signs that the bullet had missed the vest. At the very least, she'd be quite sore and bruised for a while.

Once he was satisfied she was going to be okay, he pulled her into his chest, trying not to crush her already battered body. "I thought I had lost you, milaya," he whispered against her hair.

He felt her soften in his arms. One arm banded around him, while the other reached up to run her fingers lightly through his hair. She knew how that action could soothe his savage beast, which right now was holding on by a thin leash. "I'm okay, Comrade. I'm not going anywhere for a long time."

He continued to stare at her, afraid if he blinked or looked away for even a moment, she would disappear. It wasn't until he felt another hand on his shoulder and heard the distant sound of sirens that he drew his attention away from Rose. Ivan stood to one side, while Mikhail stood on the other. "She's going to be alright," he croaked out, emotion still clogging his throat.

Turning back to Rose, he said, "Do you think you can stand up?"

She scoffed and then winced as she made a move to rise. Dimitri took her hands in his and helped her to stand before wrapping an arm around her uninjured side. "If you even try to pick me up and carry me out of here, I will test out that new stun gun model on your balls," she said, humor in her voice. He smiled slightly, relieved that she was apparently okay.

To his side, Ivan snorted. "You should probably wait until after tonight before you mess with the man's family jewels, Rose."

Dimitri's eyes shot to his friend's, the warning glare evident as Ivan's eyes widened. He coughed something unintelligible before walking away toward the van Eddie had driven back toward the front of the warehouse.

"What the hell was that all about?" Rose asked as she limped beside Dimitri.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just Ivan being…well, Ivan. You know how he is?" He cast a glance toward her, hoping his explanation was sufficient.

Rose shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, it's like his brain gave over permanent authority to his dick."

Dimitri let out a bark of laughter. The more she quipped and joked, the more he knew she was indeed okay. In those brief moments, before he knew she was alive and not grievously injured, he had lost any will to go on. That short exposure to life without his Roza was filled with nothing but bleakness and despair.

While he had been overjoyed that she had come to work with him after her former boss at the CIA, Assistant Director Tasha Ozera had "fired" her, it added a new layer of worry and concern. They were in a relationship now – living together, even. It had been almost a year since she had joined their team and moved to Lyon. He knew her to be one of the best. She was highly intelligent, intuitive, and skilled. Yet, even with all that, he could never seem to let go of the sliver of fear that wedged itself in his heart at the idea of her putting herself in danger. Yes, they had discussed just that more than once. Rose being who she was, repeatedly pointed out that his life was just as much at risk as hers, and yet, she would never try to prevent him from being who he was or doing the job he loved. While he understood it all intellectually, it was another matter getting his heart on board. Yet he hadn't been willing to change her into something she wasn't or keep her from doing something she loved. In the end, they had agreed to pledge their love to one another every day, as if it might be their last. That way there would never be any doubt of how they felt about the other, should the unthinkable happen.

"Let's get you checked out and then get you home. If you're up to it, we've got plans to meet the team at L'Antiquaire to celebrate. It's Christmas Eve, and we've finally put an end to the Dashkov empire once and for all.

She smiled. "Fine, but we have to watch "Die Hard" tomorrow."

Outwardly, Dimitri groaned, but inside he was smiling like a love-sick fool. If his Roza wanted violence and mayhem on Christmas Day, then that's what he'd give her. As long it wasn't the real kind. 

* * *

They arrived at the flat a short while later. Rose had insisted they go by the office first to file their reports, but Dimitri had insisted she needed to get some rest. Part of Rose wanted to gripe about his domineering attitude, but the other part, the one she didn't acknowledge often, was pleased. She had been relieved that Dimitri wasn't a man who felt the need to control her – well, at least not outside the bedroom. _Yeah, like that was a hardship._ Instead, he made sure she knew he saw her as his partner and his equal. Especially in the office and the field. So, given how shaken he had been when she had been shot, she willingly acquiesced to his request.

"Come, let's get you into a bath. We've got a few hours before we have to be at the bar," Dimitri said, as he led Rose toward the bathroom.

"You know, Comrade. You're only going to be able to work this whole He-Man a little while longer. Don't get too used to it," she teased.

"Then let me enjoy it while I can."

Rose smirked as he led her into the large, en-suite bathroom. The giant claw-foot tub sat against one wall; a large, frosted glass window framing it. He released her hand and went to start the water while Rose began to shed her clothes. She winced slightly as she raised her arms to pull up her shirt.

Suddenly, Dimitri was at her side. His hands stilled hers. "Let me." Grasping a sleeve of the black turtleneck, he pulled one arm gently through. He mimicked the same action with the other side before carefully lifting the shirt over her head.

As he dropped it to the floor, she heard his sharp intake of breath before he fell to his knees in front of her. His hands were at her hips as he lowered his head and placed a soft kiss to the mottled bruise already blooming along her stomach.

Rose lifted a hand and ran it gently through his hair as he let his lips rest slightly against the wound. "Hey, it's okay, Dimitri. I'm okay," she said quietly.

Without looking at her, he whispered. "For a moment, I thought I had lost you." He looked up at her then, his eyes moist and his expression tortured. "I can't lose you. I wouldn't survive it."

Rose lowered her head, her lips caressing his in a whisper of a kiss. "You won't. You won't lose me. Ever." She knew it was a ridiculous promise, given their jobs, but she also knew she'd do her damnedest to make sure they both made it home safe each time.

Dimitri helped her out of the rest of her clothes before he lifted her in his arms and set her gently into the water. Once settled, she watched as he shed his own clothes. She could feel the desire coursing through her as she watched him reach behind his head to pull off his shirt. _Gah, was there anything more alluring than when a man did that?_

Dimitri smirked as he looked at her, the same intense desire behind his eyes. "Like what you see?"

Rose's smile was predatory, she was sure. "No." She paused, teasing. "I fucking love what I see."

Grinning, Dimitri removed the remainder of his clothes before stepping in behind her and sinking into the hot water. He pulled her back against him, and she couldn't help but shiver as she felt his hard length pressed against her.

He wrapped his arms around her before resting his chin lightly on top of her head. "You still haven't told me what you want for Christmas?" he asked.

Rose closed her eyes as she settled back against his chest. His fingers drew lazy, random patterns across her stomach, but he made sure to avoid the bruising. "As cliché as it is, I have everything I could ever want, right here."

"Me too," he said softly.

As they relaxed even more, Dimitri's movements became bolder, as one hand slid up, his fingers circling around her breast. The other traveled south, those long, strong fingers sliding and probing between her legs. She moaned in pleasure but felt Dimitri freeze.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked.

She reached up and back with her arm and turned slightly to pull his face to hers. "Never." She drew his mouth down. "Don't stop," she pleaded before he took her in a searing, all-consuming kiss. Their lips caressed before his tongue reached out, lapping gently against the seam. At the same time, at her heated juncture, he inserted a finger deep inside while his palm rubbed seductively against that delightful bundle of nerves.

At her inhalation, his tongue plunged inside, ravaging her mouth. They dueled for dominance, but in the end, Rose let him win the battle, relaxing into the kiss and his caresses. The hand at her breast had moved to her nipple, where he was expertly rolling and pinching it. The added bite only built the sensations inside her to an even more fevered pitch. She writhed against him, needing more. "Please," she panted.

Knowing exactly what she was begging for, Dimitri inserted another finger inside and pushed in further. Her hips bucked as he found that small rough pad inside her that sent electrical shocks throughout her body. She cried out, her senses on overload from everything he was doing to her. His tongue was mimicking what his fingers were doing, while the hand at one breast moved to the other. He paid it the same attention, tweaking, and plucking, playing her like a maestro and his instrument.

Soon, she was nearly incoherent. The only word she was able to utter was a mantra of "Yes, yes, yes." She pulled her hand from the back of his head and reached between them. Rose wrapped her hand around his silky, steel cock. He really was the _full package_. Full package. She almost started to giggle at the thought before Dimitri lowered his head to her neck. The pain and pleasure, as he sucked on the tender skin had her teetering on the brink, nearly all rational thought evaporated.

"Come for me, Roza," he commanded, his voice dark and low at her ear.

That was all it took. That deep, sexy, commanding voice sent Rose careening over the edge. She cried out his name as flashes of light burst behind her eyes, and her body shook from the powerful orgasm. He slowed, but never stopped his ministration, leaving her just on the cusp.

Growling, he lifted her up slightly. With whatever wits she still possessed, Rose reached down and grasped his length in her hand and guided him inside. They both groaned as she sank over him, taking him completely.

"So tight. So perfect," Dimitri grunted, as his hips moved slowly.

"Yes," she sighed. "You feel so fucking amazing, Dimitri."

With her injury, Dimitri did most of the work, lifting her up and down. Wanting more, Rose shifted until she was on her knees. He filled her, almost to the point of discomfort, but the pleasure always erased the pain. It was pressure and sensation that she craved every time they came together. It was merely one more way that proved how well they fit together.

She could feel the pressure building once again inside her. As if sensing it, Dimitri took her hand and led them both to her swollen bud. Together, they stroked and flicked. The eroticism pushed Rose further over the edge, as she cried out. Her insides clenched tightly around him, as she tried to bring him over with her. When his movements became harder and faster, she knew he was close. Moving her hand away from his, she reached down further, letting her short nails drag lightly over his sack.

"Uhn," he grunted, as he pinched her clit.

That was all it took to send her flying. She arched back, a scream tearing from her. "Dimitri!"

At nearly the same moment, she heard Dimitri's answering roar, "Roza!"

She collapsed against him, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. She winced slightly at the pain that shot through her as a result but was relieved that Dimitri was still apparently too enveloped in post-coital bliss to notice. The last thing she wanted to do was spoil what had been one of their top ten sexual experiences to date.

"Comrade," she panted. "That was incredible."

Breathing heavily, Dimitri's wrapped his arm around her chest, as he held her tenderly against him. "No, Roza. That was fucking amazing." He placed soft kisses against her head. "Do you think it will always be like this?"

Rose stroked his forearm, loving the feeling of his strength beneath her fingers. "Yes, I do."

He placed another quick kiss to her head before he lifted her gently off him. Rising out of the water, he stepped out of the tub and grabbed a nearby towel. Holding out his hand, he helped her stand before he wrapped her up and lifted her out and into his arms. "I can't wait to hear those words again," he said softly before carrying her back to the bedroom. 

* * *

He and Rose had taken a brief nap after their lovemaking. They had both been physical and mentally exhausted after the mission. He felt a little guilty that he had taken advantage of her in the bath. He smiled as he realized that Rose would have kicked his ass at that thought.

They had eaten a light dinner before dressing and heading to the bar. Since it was Christmas Eve, they chose to grab a cab. As they snuggled against one another on the ride there, Dimitri tried to control the nervous energy that was coursing through him. Never had one night been this important.

Rose placed a hand on his leg, the one that was shaking. "Hey, Comrade. Are you okay?"

He tried to still himself and placed a kiss to her lips as she stared up at him. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just leftover adrenaline from today, I think." _Was that smoke he smelled coming from his pants?_

Rose squeezed his knee lightly, as the cab pulled up to the bar entrance. Dimitri opened the door and then took Rose's hand. When she had stepped out, he placed his hand on her back as he led them inside.

The main bar had a few patrons, but as it was Christmas Eve, it wasn't as busy as usual. In fact, besides the team, there were only a few other people inside. Their fellow agents were all clustered around a large table in the corner. The other patrons were seated with their backs to them at the bar. Dimitri maneuvered Rose toward their co-workers and friends.

"Hey, guys!" Ivan called out.

"How are you feeling, Rose?" Alberta asked, concern in her eyes and tone.

"I'm fine, Alberta. Just a little bruising."

Dimitri scoffed. "A _little_ bruising? It looks like she's gone a round with the Hulk!"

He saw Rose roll her eyes. "You say large hematoma, I say tiny bruise."

"Well, I'm just glad you're both okay," Mikhail said, raising his glass of beer.

"What he said," Eddie added.

"Here, why don't you let me take your coat," Dimitri asked, his hands already pulling it from her shoulders.

She smiled up at him, letting it slide down her arms. "Always such a gentleman."

He grinned before leaning down to her ear. "Only in public." He smirked as he saw the slight shiver that ran through her at his implication. _Oh yeah. His Roza might be a capable and confident woman, but nothing got her hotter than when he took charge in the bedroom._ He had to adjust himself slightly as the flash of ideas and images of various scenarios played through his mind.

Dropping their coats on the bench behind their table, Dimitri turned back to Rose. She was looking up at him, open love and adoration shining in her eyes and on her face. _God, he loved this woman. Why the hell had he wasted so much time and walked away from her all those months ago?_ He cupped her face in his hands and leaned down to place a gentle, but still intense, kiss to her lips. He tried to convey in it all the things he felt; all the hopes he had for their future.

As he pulled back after a moment, it was to find her face still tilted up and eyes closed. She swayed slightly for a moment. He smiled at her serene features, drinking in her beauty and strength. When she opened her eyes, she had a look of unadulterated love, and it took every ounce of control to not drag her back to their flat and take her over and over again.

Dimitri groaned and whispered, "Roza, you can't keep looking at me like that right now."

She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his ear. "If looking at you like that gets this kind of reaction," she said, gently caressing his hard shaft, "we might have to cut our evening short."

Her words caused separate and contradicting reactions. On the one hand, Dimitri and his cock were in full agreement that they needed to get back into the taxi and head home. On the other hand, tonight was too important. With that last thought, he tightened his control and curbed his desires. Before she could notice, Dimitri pulled her hand away and raised it to his lips. He placed a kiss to her palm and winked. "That will have to wait, milaya. I have other plans for tonight."

Rose eyed him warily. "What sort of plans?"

Dimitri shrugged. "Just to spend Christmas Eve with our family and friends." He pulled out his wallet and pressed some bills into her hand. "Rose, I need to step to the restroom. Would you go grab us some drinks from the bar?"

"Uh, sure," she said before turning and heading to the other side of the room.

He watched as she took a few steps before she faltered. Dimitri saw the moment she recognized her friend, Lissa. The woman was hard to miss and had swiveled in her seat at the bar as Rose had made her way closer. Her husband Christian had also turned and had slid off the stool to stand behind his wife. They both grinned as Rose started toward them.

"Lis?" he heard Rose ask, confusion in her voice.

Before Lissa could reply, Rose gasped as she took in the other patrons at the bar, who had all turned in their seats to face her. Tasha Ozera stood and moved over to stand near her cousin and his wife. At the same time, Mason and his girlfriend, Mia also slid off their respective seats and walked toward Tasha. Rose's back was to Dimitri, but he could see her hand fly up to her mouth as she took in the last two patrons. Abe Mazur and Janine Hathaway Mazur stood and moved toward their daughter.

The three moved at the same time, embracing in a hug. Dimitri could see the love and adoration clearly in her parents' eyes. He was slightly relieved when he saw Abe glance over at him before giving him a brief nod.

Slowly and quietly, Dimitri made his way up behind Rose. He had heard and sensed his team rise from their seats to move closer as well. The others at the bar had already moved in a little until there was nearly a semi-circle enclosing he and Rose.

He waited until she began to turn around. As she did, he knelt down to one knee, the powder blue box held up in one hand. He smiled as he saw Rose's eyes widen, her mouth hanging open. She gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. Her head was shaking back and forth slightly while her eyes grew bright. For a moment, panic set in, as Dimitri thought her reaction might not be what he had expected. Relief flooded through him when he saw her smile behind her hand.

"Rosemarie Hathaway, you blew into my life like a tsunami. You took everything I had ever known and turned it upside down. I was drawn to you like no one else, even before I really _knew_ you. Your courage and strength amaze me. Your love for your family and friends warms me. You melted away all the frozen places inside me with your fire and warmth. You've challenged me from the beginning, "he said, as the others in their group chuckled knowingly, "and I hope the day will never come when you stop. I love everything about you, Roza. Please say you'll be my wife?"

Fighting back the tears he knew she'd hate to show in public, Rose simply nodded and extended her hand to him. He pulled the small silver band, inlaid with small sapphires. With their jobs, she wouldn't always be able to wear a wedding band. Let alone an engagement ring, so at least this way she could wear it on her other hand when she was in the field. He saw the knowing smile on her face as he slipped it onto her slim finger.

"It's perfect," she said softly.

He placed a kiss to the ring before standing and pulling her into his arms. He cupped her face and brought his mouth to hers in a nearly bruising, passionate kiss. It wasn't until the shouts of congratulations and hollers for them to get a room echoed around them, that Dimitri pulled back slightly.

"I'm going to assume that was a yes?" he asked, somewhat teasing.

She laughed easily. "Yes, Dimitri. Yes, yes, yes," she said, punctuating every affirmative answer with a kiss to his lips. "Always, yes."


End file.
